


Desire Becomes Surrender, Surrender Becomes Power.

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bottom Harry, Crime, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Harry is Harley basically, Insanity, Jared Leto - Freeform, Louis is the joker, M/M, Margot Robbie - Freeform, Murder, So he's Harry Quinn, Suicide Squad, Suicide Squad was such a good fucking movie, The Joker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7914757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Quinzel gets assigned to the most dangerous patient in all of Arkham Asylum, The Joker himself. Though putting much time and effort into trying to find an explanation to why the green-haired man is so utterly cruel and insane, Harry can only conclude that he's heartless and incurable. But will that stop him from wanting to see the man? Most likely not.<br/>Starring Harry Styles as Harry Quinzel/Quinn and Louis Tomlinson as The Joker. (However, just like the real Joker, they don't know his name is Louis Tomlinson, because the Joker's true identity is unknown.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. INTRO

_How hard could it possibly be to make him open up to me? He’s The Joker for goodness sake, a few jokes later and he’ll be spewing out a practical autobiography._

 

Though Harry was thinking those words, he wasn’t even that convinced that he was going to have any luck whatsoever at his first appointment with the psychotic green-haired man. He’d be lucky to make it out totally unharmed, for that matter. He wasn’t so much nervous, because he had quite a record of being able to calm even the most dangerous minds- at least to the extent that they wouldn’t reach across the table and snap his neck. He gave them almost a sense of security, making them feel as though he wasn’t there to judge or ridicule them.

Harry stepped over the puddle onto the sidewalk in front of the vast, dark building. Arkham Asylum, home to the most unruly people in all of Gotham City, where Harry had just been assigned to possibly one of the most popular serial killers he’d ever come across in his whole life.

He took a deep breath, assuring himself that he’d be fine. It wasn’t like he was meeting the Clown Prince of Crime on the streets. They were going to be in a locked room, with guards and most likely, the man chained to the chair he’d be sitting on. He had to remember that he would be safe, otherwise he himself would probably go mad at how nerve wracking the suspense was.

Nonetheless, the man stepped forward into the building, being greeted by a guard. Once showing the armed man his ID, he was allowed into the solitary ward, where his patient was being held.

“You don’t have to look so nervous, Mr. Quinzel. I can assure you he’s restrained. We put him in a straitjacket and in chains just for safe measure. Plus we’ll be standing outside the door, any unusual noise and we’ll be coming in to check on you.” the guard said as he led Harry down the dark, dimly lit hallway towards the bolted shut door all the way at the end.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay… that makes me feel a lot better. I’m not so much scared of him as I am of what he’s capable of. There’s nothing he can say that can mess with me but… I’ve heard horrific stories of what he can do with just his bare hands.” the lad looked at the guard, biting his lower lip slightly.

“Yeah, well there’ll be none of that. He’s tied up good. Don’t show him fear, you know, he likes that.” the guard took out his keys, unlocking the door and pushing up the lock, opening the door to reveal the man hunched over in his chair, staring at the cement floor. “Go on in.”

“Okay…” Harry whispered to himself, walking into the room and stopping after a few steps in, hearing the door close loudly behind him. He took another deep breath, walking in and sitting across from the lad at the table, a good five foot between them, which made him feel slightly more at ease. He set his folders and notebook down on the metal table, taking off his jacket and laying it over the back of the table before looking at the man. He was slightly confused, and a bit creeped out, seeing as how the man hadn’t moved a muscle since he had opened the door.

“Hello.” Harry said, being careful not to let his voice shake though honestly he felt like if the man made a sudden move he’d have to change his pants.

“Hello.” the man echoed, his head still facing the ground, his voice low and husky, quite honestly not the sound Harry had been expecting to hear from him.

“I’m Doctor Harry Quinzel, I’m here to get to know you a bit better.” the curly haired lad said, “Would you mind looking up please? I’ll need to write down your facial expressions to get a more comprehensive view of your body language.”

A few moments passed and he heard the chains dragging across the cold cement floor, the lad sitting up in his seat and looking at Harry with a slightly amused expression. Harry felt as if the wind was knocked right out of him. Harry had never seen the man before, not even a picture, but now he was kind of wishing he had.

Nobody had ever told him about how devilishly handsome the villain was, with his angular jaw and his chiseled cheekbones, his sultry blue eyes. The red lipstick smeared around his mouth and the ghostly pale skin did nothing to put Harry off, as he found it more unique than traditional handsome men. His eyes skimmed over the man’s facial tattoos and slicked back neon green hair, wondering just how he managed to keep himself looking like this in an asylum when all he was allowed was a metal slab as a bed, a bucket to pee in, and maybe a blanket if he was actually planning on sleeping.

“I’ve got something for you to write, Doctor. How about.. ‘I’ve been staring at him for thirty seconds now like a piece of cake that I want to devour.” the man said, smiling cockily at him, showing off the partial grill he had on his front teeth.

“No, no.” Harry shook his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as he looked down at the papers on the desk in front of him, opening up the folder and clearing his throat. “Okay, so your file says you’re in here for the attempted murder of Batman, correct?”

The Joker let out a deep sigh. “The attempted murder of him, yes, but the successful murder of thousands of others.”

“Right.” Harry whispered, not looking up at him, as he was afraid to get too distracted by looking at the man again. “You’ve been diagnosed with many different illnesses such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, clinical insanity, homicidal tendencies, suicidal tendencies, borderline personality disorder and a few others. What’s your view on that?”

“Schizophrenia.” the green-haired man scoffed, sitting back in his seat causing the chains to drag over the floor again, making Harry look up at him. “Who the hell diagnosed me with that bullshit? Schizophrenia? I’m not schizophrenic. I’m real.” the man sat forward suddenly, his chest resting on the edge of the table, his voice getting slightly more rough as his movements pulled the chains tightly, allowing him to move no closer. “I can guarantee you there’s not one person in this whole city who hasn’t wanted to slit someone’s throat before. That’s not insanity, that’s not anything other than common sense. Someone gives you trouble and you want to make them stop, perhaps even make them suffer for it. Me? I just give in to that. You regular people are so worried about people’s opinions that you let people walk all over you because- oh- God forbid someone actually _pay_ for what they’ve done for you.”

Harry looked at the man, taking a slow breath as he wrote down notes on the man's little outburst. 

"So... um..." Harry thought for a few moments, knowing he had something he wanted to say, but he was having a hard time concentrating now. "So... you're saying you feel... misunderstood? You don't think you're doing anything wrong when you take the lives of those who don't understand you?" Harry asked, his voice getting softer so as to calm the man down and make him feel as though Harry understood where he was coming from. 

"No." The Joker whispered, shaking his head. Harry's brows furrowed as he looked at the man. "I know what I'm doing is wrong. I'm not an infant. I'm not  _stupid._ I'm just saying that I don't there's anything wrong with being.... wrong. You see?" the man grinned wickedly, his eyes crinkling up in the corners and Harry gulped slightly. "See people like Batman, he's a do good-er. Everyone idolizes him, oh, he's so great, where would we be without him." the man said in a whiny voice. "But he's not as good as you'd think. If he was such a saint, such a hero, don't you think I'd be dead by now? That prick has had so many chances to kill me. One time, I actually gave him the gun," the man began laughing as he spoke. "I gave him the gun and pressed the barrel against my forehead, and I said, 'Come on pussy, pull the trigger, end me.'" he cackled wildly for a few moments before he stopped suddenly, looking at Harry. "And you know what he did?" 

Although it was an obvious answer, the man was looking at him like he expected an answer, so Harry's lips parted in a soft, "What?"

"Nothing." the man whispered simply. "There I was, gun right here, right between my eyes." he went to point, but his hands were restrained by the straitjacket. "Right between my eyes, could have killed me with one pull of the trigger. And he did  _nothing._ What kind of hero is that? At least I do something about my problems." 

Harry looked at the lad for a few moments before nodding in understanding, not really sure how to respond to his words. In a strange way, what The Joker said almost made sense to Harry. He justified his actions by thinking that what he was doing was making progress, instead of running away from his problems or forgetting about them, The Joker ended them right then and there. 

That's the moment that Harry got really scared. The Joker couldn't hurt him with his words, nor his hands, not a gun, a knife, nothing. But he could mess with Harry's mind, make him sympathize for him. He was feeling sympathetic for a psychotic serial killer. God help him. 


	2. I

_That went... alright, I guess. Not too terrible. I guess he's not too vicious with people. Maybe they have him on medications or maybe it's because he knows that his restraints won't allow him to hurt me. But, whatever the reason, so far I haven't seen firsthand what makes everyone so terrified of The Joker._

 

 "Get in the chair, J." the guard said sternly, dragging the tied up man into the room that Harry was already in, having showed up on time but his patient was late to wake up. The guards shoved him into the chair, chaining his ankles to the chair and making sure the straitjacket was tightened before nodding at Harry. "He's all yours. Maybe he'll apologize for being late, he was up all night apparently and refused to wake up."

"O-oh, that's fine." Harry smiled politely at the guard, nodding. "Thank you. I'll call you if we need anything else." 

The guard nodded and walked to the door, looking back at The Joker before he left, locking the door behind him. 

Harry cleared his throat and sat down across from the man, sighing softly. "Good morning. Long night?" he asked, wanting to make nice with the man before they began as he had some more in-depth questions he had to ask today. 

"You could say that." the man nodded, humming as he looked at Harry. 

"What would you say was the reason for you staying up all night?" he asked, grabbing his pen and clicking it open, looking at the villain. "Were you up all night thinking or was it temporary insomnia?" he asked softly.

The green-haired man sighed and leaned his head back, exposing his neck and showing tattoos Harry hadn't noticed before. "None of that. I just didn't take the medicine they offered me. They usually give me tranquilizers because I get rowdy at night." he laughed for a few moments. "I spit my medicine out at the guy and kicked him in the stomach so they dragged me in my cell. Didn't tuck me in or anything. No goodnight, no bedtime story." 

Harry's lips pursed as he wrote down some notes, sighing softly. "You're lucky that's all they did." he murmured, "I've read your file carefully and from what I've read, you usually receive very serious punishments. Whippings, shock therapy, getting caned?" he looked up at the man, his brows furrowing slightly. "Sometimes only for saying things, not even physical fights."

The man looked at Harry and nodded. "Mmhm, that's right. I recall since I've been in here I've gotten caned forty two times, whipped thirty, shock therapy six. And I'm still here aren't I?" 

"I suppose you're a lot tougher than most people in here, then. Based on what I've heard of Arkham, after a few punishments most patients start being more and more obedient to avoid further punishments. Why do you think you continue to act up? Do you not find these punishments painful or is there another reason why you willingly get yourself into trouble?" Harry asked, pressing the pen to his lips as he watched the man for an answer. 

"Of course the punishments are painful. Of course it hurts when they shock me until I feel like my insides are fried." the man grinned, "But I love pain. I wouldn't be the way I am if I was afraid of pain and suffering. It's ironic, really, I am the way I am because my father abused me as a child. Smacked me, punched me, put cigarettes out on my skin, one time he picked up a wine bottle, smashed it and slashed my cheek with the glass." the man thought, licking his lips as he looked up at the ceiling. "Over time you get used to it, though. You learn to block it out, or, in my case, enjoy it." 

Harry frowned slightly. "Your father did all that to you? They don't mention that anywhere in your file, though." he whispered, looking down at the man's file and skimming through the diagnosis and back story. 

"No, why would they? They don't care why I'm like this, they just want to make me seem as crazy as they can. Not one person has asked me in two years of being in and out of this damned place what made me this way." the man sounded agitated now. "They think I'm just some monster or something, but remember, all monsters start out human and someone makes them into what they are now." 

Harry nodded in understanding and looked up at the man. "I'm... I'm sorry. I really don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. No one ever does. I don't mind." the man shrugged and sat back in his seat, closing his eyes. 

"No, no... I mean.. I really am sorry. That's really terrible.. and now that I know that's why you're so on edge all the time, it helps me to understand your motive. You're not heartless at all, you're just hurt. Violence is all you know. That's a really terrible way to be brought up and maybe instead of people being so quick to judge and ridicule you, they should put themselves in your shoes. I'm really sorry." 

The man stared at Harry through his speech, his expression hard to read; Harry was unsure of if he felt better from his sympathy or if he simply didn't even care what Harry had to say. 

After a few moments of silence from both ends, the man finally opened his mouth. "You think I'm funny?" he asked. 

"What?" Harry asked softly, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

"I said, do you think I'm funny?" the man repeated again, seeming almost offended that Harry hadn't automatically said yes. 

"Well... I mean..." Harry was almost at a loss for words. "I mean, you haven't told me a joke or anything. We've been discussing serious things." He said softly. 

"Then can I tell you one?" the man sat up quickly, a wicked, but almost child-like smile on his lips. "It's a good one, I swear. Always makes me laugh."

Harry nodded quickly, leaning forward slightly in anticipation. He felt as though now he was finally getting somewhere, the man was finally opening up to him and speaking without having to be asked first. "Absolutely, go ahead."

"Alright. Get ready." The Joker smiled widely, licking his lips before beginning to speak. "See, there were these two guys in a lunatic asylum... and one night, they both decided, they didn't like living in the asylum anymore. They decided they're going to escape!" he grinned widely, his eyes lighting up slightly. "So like, they get up onto the roof, and there, just across this narrow gap, they see the rooftops of the town, stretching away in the moonlight... stretching away to freedom." the man took a moment to pause before continuing. "Now the first guy, he jumps across with no problem. But his friend... his friend dared not make the leap. Y'see, he's afraid of  _falling._ So, then the first guy has an idea. He says, 'hey, I have my flashlight with me! I'll shine it across the cap between the buildings. You can walk along the beam and join me!'" he began laughing at that point, almost unable to finish the joke. "B-but the second guy just shakes his head and says... he says, 'What do you think I am?  _Crazy? You'd turn it off when I was halfway across!'"_

Harry let out a soft giggle, only laughing louder when he saw how much of a kick the man was getting out of it. Before he knew it they were both laughing, tears forming in their eyes. It wasn't only the joke, it was just seeing how much the other was laughing, which fueled the fire. It almost warmed Harry's heart seeing the villain laugh so hard, a wide smile on his face. 

After the laughter had died down and the two of them were able to regain their composure, Harry was unable to stop smiling. "You  _are_ funny. Very funny." he smiled softly. 

The green-haired man looked rather satisfied with himself, "I'm glad you think so... oh..." he trailed off before his lips pursed and his serious face returned. "Of course after I told my father that one he broke my jaw." 

Harry frowned and looked at the man sympathetically. "But it was funny..." he whispered, almost feeling an urge to go hug the man. 

"I know. I'm very funny. But that's the downside of comedy. You're always taking hits from people who just don't get the joke." the man gritted his teeth, looking at Harry before a big smile spread across his face. "Do you have any good jokes?" 

Harry was taken aback by how quickly the man's facial expressions changed and how he switched up moods as if it was nothing. He could go from a serious topic to telling jokes within seconds, while Harry's mind dwelled on previous things. "I- umm.. not really. I'm not really one to tell jokes. I just like hearing them, honestly." he said, writing down a few notes he had on the clown before looking back up at the man. 

"Next time we meet I expect you to have one prepared for me." the man grinned, "Search one up if you have to. You don't have to make it up." 

Harry smiled and nodded. "Okay, fair enough." 

_See, he's done a lot of bad things but he's not all that terrible once you get him to open up to you... He's actually kind of nice. He's funny and easy to make conversation with. I just think nobody knows this because nobody gives him the time of day. It's so sad. He's really just a tortured soul crying out for help._

"Doctor Quinzel." the man tilted his chin up, grinning. "What are you thinking about?"

Harry cleared his throat and blushed slightly. "Nothing, don't worry about that." he smiled softly. "I have some more questions to ask you before our session ends, okay?"

"Okay," the man said breathily, the tone of his voice so raw and sexy that Harry could tell how the man had gotten away with his crimes for so long. He was so seductive in his own psychotic way, so intriguing and alluring that even though people knew it was wrong, they still got caught up in his words. 

\-----

After finishing up the session, Harry was almost sad to have to leave. He had actually enjoyed today's session more than he should have, which worried him slightly, but on the bright side, he had another session with him in two days. Another plus was that the man showed signs of opening up, which was very relieving and seemed to lift a heavy weight off of his shoulders. 

"Goodbye, Doctor Quinzellll." the man dragged out the end of his name as the guards unchained him, Harry putting on his jacket and grabbing his papers. "Don't forget that joke I want you to tell me. It's all I've got to look forward to." He flashed Harry a wicked, silver grin before the guards pulled him out of the room.

Harry bit his lip as he headed out to his car, the whole session playing in his mind over and over again. He felt a sense of guilt at the fact that he spent more time having casual conversation with The Joker more than anything, but he convinced himself that it was okay because he was just working on getting the man to open up more. And that's what he had come to do anyway, right? 

_Next time I have to stay on track, though. No more getting caught up in what he wants to talk about. A session of goofing around and getting to know each other more is okay, but no more. I'm not getting paid to listen to him make jokes._

But he wasn't convincing himself in the slightest. The damage had already begun. 


	3. II

Harry would be lying if he said he didn't go home and Google nearly every form of joke on the Internet to find one he found remotely good. Honestly, like he’d told the man, he wasn't a joke teller. But he had to try for the man, especially since he asked so nicely.

_“It’s all I’ve got to look forward to.”_

Harry frowned as he stared blankly at the screen of his laptop. His eyes burned from how long he was looking at the screen so he closed them and rubbed his eyes over his eyelids tiredly.

“What time is it, even,” Harry mumbled, looking at the clock at the bottom right hand corner of his laptop, seeing it was almost three a.m., and his shift at his other job, the library, started in six hours. Being that he was only a part time psychologist, he needed a second job to help pay bills.

Harry closed his laptop and set it on the bedside table, yawning as he began walking to the kitchen to make himself some tea to take to bed.

_Luckily tomorrow is my day off from Arkham, so I have plenty of time to find a joke for him. But what kind of joke should I even tell him? Knock knock? No, that’s too cliche._

Harry filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove, preferring the older method as it reminded him of the way his mum used to make it for him when he was sick. He turned on the burner and sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing his phone.

_Is a pun considered a joke?_

He rested his elbow on the table, putting his chin in the palm of his hand and closing his eyes, yawning slightly.

“I’ll take some tea if you don’t mind.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open, gasping when he saw the green-haired patient standing in the doorway, smirking slightly.

“Wh-wha- How did you get out of Arkham? Do they know you're not there?” he stood up quickly. “I have to- You have to leave or I have to call the police.”

The man chuckled and walked towards Harry, towering over him at a shocking height of six foot five. Harry had never noticed how tall he was or the slight scars on his face.

“Now, relax. I’m just paying a visit to a friend. You’re my friend right?” the man grinned wickedly, gently brushing the back of his tattooed hand against Harry’s cheek.

Harry’s lips parted slightly. He was never afraid of the man before, but granted he was in a straitjacket and chains, but now they were in Harry’s kitchen surrounded by knives and other potential weapons.

“Will you relax?” The Joker chuckled, grabbing Harry’s chin and turning his face towards him. “I’m not going to stab you.” he glanced back at the knives. “No, knives work much too quick. I prefer torture.” he grinned.

“Please don’t-”

“I’m kidding!” the man laughed wickedly, letting go of him and stepping back. “God, Doctor Quinzel, I thought you understood jokes.” he rolled his eyes.

Harry let out a slow breath after a few moments. “Listen, I-I’m going to get in trouble if they find out you snuck into my house, then you’ll be assigned a new psychologist. You have to leave if you want to continue our sessions.” he whispered, his back pressed up against the counter.

The green-haired villain’s grin dropped and he nodded, “You’re right.” he whispered, moving closer, grabbing Harry’s chin again. “I don't want that.” he whispered, his face getting close. “I’ll go. Not without a goodbye kiss, though,” he smirked, bringing his lips closer.

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and his lips met the man’s, gripping the counter closer as he kissed back. His stomach felt like it was inflating like a balloon, about to burst, his lips tingling at the sensation of the other's pressed against them. His face felt on fire from blushing so much, the man’s touch against his cheeks so rough and lustful.

The sensation was short-lived, though, as their lips parted and the villain stepped back, the shorter, curly haired lad raising his fingers to his lips, blushing deeply. Just as he looked up at him, the kettle beginning to hiss loudly.

“God!” Harry’s head hit the table and he sat up, sitting at the table, looking around. “Umm… Joker?” he stood up quickly, running down the hall and looking in each room. “Where did he…” he whispered before walking back to the kitchen, turning the stove off.

_I dreamt that all._

His eyes drooped slightly as he took the kettle carefully off, setting it on a coaster and grabbing himself a teacup, putting the tea packet in and pouring the piping hot water into it.

_I dreamt that The Joker broke out of the asylum and came to my house to kiss me._

His face was almost expressionless, stirring his tea and bringing the cup with him to his bedroom, closing the door and sitting down on his bed.

_What’s wrong with me? He’s a psychopath, if he broke into my house it’d be to tie me up and cut my limbs off, probably, or something terrible like that. As if he’d come to kiss me._

Harry pulled back the covers, getting under and frowning slightly as he propped the pillow up against the headboard, stirring his tea a bit more to try to cool it down quicker. His lips made an ‘o’ shape, blowing air into his cup as he stirred it while he stared at the TV at the end of his bed, blinking slowly. He didn't know what to think, honestly, pretty embarrassed at the fact that he basically just had a semi-sexual dream about a psychopath; one of his patients. He’d always thought the man was handsome, of course, but did that mean he had a crush on him? Not necessarily…

_Am I going crazy? Is this what happens when you find a criminal physically attractive?_

Harry took a sip of his tea, sighing softly.

_But does that even count as being physically attracted to him? I’ve never had thoughts about him like that. I mean, I looked at him a lot in the session and acknowledged how handsome he was, but I do that with any hot guy I see! Does that mean I’d make out with them?_

Harry’s face dropped as he realised he just asked himself a question, to which the answer was “yes.”

“I just need to sleep. I’m delirious.” he mumbled to himself, putting the tea down on his bedside table and laying down, resting his head on his pillow and closing his eyes.

\-----

“Hey, Harry! You do not look good.” Niall, his spunky blonde co-worker smiled from behind the cash register.

Harry hung his jacket up, rolling his eyes. “Wow, thanks.” he murmured, setting his bag behind the register and running his fingers through his hair. “Did you forget my coffee?” he raised a brow, “I need my coffee.”

“I was runnin’ late, lad, I didn't have time to stop at Starbucks. I’m sorry,” Niall’s cheeks flushed so easily, scratching the back of his neck. “If you want to go run and get it, I’ll help any customers who come in.”

Harry sighed heavily and shook his head. “No. S’fine. I have to start organising books, apparently someone put a bunch of ‘Young Adults’ books with the children's books and suddenly a bunch of five year olds are hearing about a forbidden romance between a high school girl and a college boy.” he sighed dramatically as he spoke, walking to the back of the library to begin working.

“Wait, wait. Are you alright? You’re so… not cheery. Where’s my cheery Harry?” Niall pouted dramatically, leaning against the reception desk.

“I just didn't get much sleep last night.” Harry looked back at him, biting his lip. “I was up until three on my computer and then four… having… complications.” he frowned.

Niall raised a brow. “Four a.m.? That’s very unlike you. Is everything alright? Anything you need to talk about?”

Harry was quick to decline the offer, thanking the lad and excusing himself so he could get started with work to distract his mind.

_When Two Worlds Collide is not a children’s book. Neither is Tainted Love or When Brown Eyes Met Blue. Jesus, does anyone understand simple colour coding? Green is little kids, yellow is young adults, red is adult. How hard could it be?_

Harry shoved the yellow-tagged books into their correct places, grumbling to himself before he sat back, running his hand over his face.

_Maybe I’m stressing myself out over nothing. So what I had a weird dream about him, that's like… if I had a dream about kissing Niall, doesn't mean I’d ever want to in real life. It was something I couldn't control. And I’m getting myself all worked up over a stupid figment of my imagination._

“Whatcha thinkin’ about there, Haz?” Niall asked curiously, peeking at the boy from the other side of the bookcase, his face smushed between two Encyclopedias.

“What? Oh, nothing.” he shook his head, finishing putting the yellow-tagged books on their proper shelves. “I was just thinking.”

“Yeah I know, that's why I asked you what exactly you were thinking about.” Niall chuckled before his brows knitted together. “Seriously, man, what is up with you?”

Harry sighed and pushed himself up, walking around to the side of the bookcase so he could look at Niall.

“I need to talk to you but you have to promise me you're not going to judge me or like… report me to authorities for sounding crazy. I didn't do anything wrong but I just need to explain what I’ve been feeling.” he said, his eyes hopeful as he looked at Niall.

“Okay, of course, yeah,” Niall nodded quickly, his eyes full of worry as he looked at Harry. “You’re safe with me, mate.”

“Thank you.” Harry breathed out, hugging the lad for comfort.

\-----

“You look very nervous, Dr. Quinzel,” the guard said as he brought Harry down a different hallway, one he wasn't familiar with. “Everything alright? Sure you're up to today’s session? You don't have to.”

“I-I’ll be okay, really. I just had a hard time falling asleep last night. But! I’ve had three cups of coffee since then and now I’m back on track.” he stopped in front of the large metal door that the guard stopped at, finding the correct key to open it for the man.

“Alright well, if you change your mind. Holler.” the man smiled and Harry nodded, walking into the white padded room, where The Joker was asleep in the corner of the room, his arms still secured by a straitjacket, but his legs not in chains for once.

_Where am I supposed to sit? Just… on the ground? I guess I’ll sit in the corner across from him. Should I wake him up? Wait, why is he even in here in the first place?_

“ **Hey J, wake up!** ” the guard shouted through the screen and the villain’s eyes opened suddenly, sitting up slightly.

“I’m up, no need to strain that pretty voice of your- Doctor Quinzel, hi,” the man cut himself off, grinning widely at him and showing off the metal over his teeth. “Come here to watch me sleep, or you got my joke ready?”

Harry blushed slightly at the man’s suggestion that he was watching him sleep; admittedly having taken a few glances at how peaceful the man looked when he was in, what Harry could only assume, the calmest state he’d ever been in.

“No, not watching you sleep. You were just a little doped up on tranquillisers so they let me in to get situated.” He murmured, stretching his legs out over the padded floor and setting his notebook down in his lap. “What are you in solitary for anyway?”

“Oh, you know,” the man hummed. “I was getting my medicine again and some moron behind me thought it would be funny to step on my heels while he waited for his medicine. So I turned around and clocked him.” he shrugged. “He’s alright, I think. Knocked out one of his teeth but the bruising should be gone within three days max. One tiny punch and I was given tranquillisers?” he asked, craning his neck until Harry heard the bones pop.

_How does he do that without freaking out?_

“I swear the guards in this place are a bunch of pussies.” he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Doctor Quinzel. Pardon my ignorance. I haven't asked about you. How are you today?”

“I’m… okay.” Harry nodded with a polite smile.

The man smiled and his eyes shut only half-way, giving him a happy yet psychotic demeanour that only Harry could find absolutely sexy.

_Remember what Niall said, it was just a dream. I can find him as handsome or sexy as I want, but he is still a killer, and I’m still a completely sane person._

“That’s good to hear.” the man’s voice dropped to a whisper, the slight rasp from just waking up making Harry bite his lip. “So, do you have that joke prepared for me?” he tilted his chin up, “Huh?”

“I- Actually, yes,” Harry quickly reached into his file folder, pulling out a pocket-sized notebook of jokes that he’d written down after scouring the Internet for hours the previous night. “I’ve got like… forty in here. I could always add more, but,” he shrugged, looking through it to assure himself all of it was there. “I figured you could read a few every day, when you get bored or… I dunno.” Harry’s lower lip got caught between his teeth.

“Oh,” the man cooed in such a sinister manner that Harry’s cheeks flushed. “You’re just a gift, aren't you, Doctor Quinzel?” the man licked his lips. “I’m very appreciative of your generous effort.”

Harry smiled politely. “It was no problem at all, I’m glad you like it.” He gently set the booklet down next to the man before going back to his corner of the room.

The man chuckled quietly and watched Harry’s movements intently. “I mean it, though. I live for these moments with you, you know that? You’re my only ray of sunshine in this windowless shithole. You… you are what makes this miserable existence worth enduring.” he whispered, his tone rough with aggravation.

Harry’s face absolutely flushed, the tips of his ears burning as he looked at his lap, playing with the pen.

“Getting all shy on me now, aren't you?” the man smirked proudly, “I didn't think you would be one to get so flustered so quickly.”

Harry’s cheeks were tingling and he cleared his throat slightly. “It’s just… not many people feel that way about me. Wh-which is good, because I wouldn't ever want to be the only thing good in a person's life, but… I’ve never been referred to as someone's ray of sunshine before,” he bit his lip.

“I’m sure you have, maybe not directly. You got a lot of friends don't you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Just one… coworker… we’re kind of friends. We don't really speak outside of work except for yesterday when I needed help with something.”

The man looked at Harry and grinned playfully. “Well you’ve got me now.” he whispered.

Harry smiled softly and nodded, honestly wanting to say that he couldn't be friends with a patient, but deciding it was best not to reject the man.

“Thank you.” he whispered, clearing his throat and looking down at his papers to see what questions he wanted to ask him.

“Before we begin, I have a question, Doctor.” the man said.

Harry smiled politely and nodded, “Okay, ask away. As long as it’s within the proper limits.”

The man chuckled and rolled his eyes at Harry’s words, thinking to himself that he would ask what he wants, and there was nothing Harry could do about it.

“Why are you so kind to me?” the man asked and Harry raised a brow. “You’ve treated me with respect, even going as far as making me a booklet of jokes. I can't even get a simple smile out of the people here. I tell a joke and they just look at me. Swear they’re more antisocial than they say I am.” he grumbled. “You treat me like a human being, though. Why?”

Harry listened to the man speak, smiling softly. “Because you are a human being. And it’s my job. The guards and staff here, they're afraid of you. They know nothing about you except for the fact that you murder people.” he said, “But it’s my job to speak to you and understand you on a more personal level. It’s in my job description not to dehumanise you, but to help you wherever needed. Their only guidelines are to keep you under control.”

The man looked at Harry for a few more moments, looking rather suspicious and untrusting.

“You couldn't possibly see me as a human being. You were absolutely terrified of me the first day you came in here.”

_How did he know that? I thought I looked confident when I came in the first day. I did everything I could to look calm and collected._

“You were birthed by a human being and you started out completely sane. You experience the same emotions and struggles as all humans do, to a much higher degree, but you still do. You look a bit different but under all that, you've got all the same body parts as me, and I’m a human.” Harry spoke cautiously, not wanting to point out something about the man that would trigger him.

The man’s eyes were closed and his ruby-red lips parted, his silver teeth shining from the fluorescent light emitting from the ceiling.

“They say I’m a freak.”

“Who does?” Harry leaned forward. “Who calls you that?”

“The guards.” the man’s voice cracked, and Harry’s brows knitted together with worry. Was the man finally showing his emotions? “They call me a freak and tell me I’m some kind of alien.”

_Is he crying?_

Harry watched the man worriedly, scribbling down some notes and as he looked down at the paper, he hadn't noticed the man had sat up.

“ **But I’m not!** ” the man bellowed, “ **I’m a fucking human being!** ”

Harry jumped slightly as the man’s loud, deep voice pierced his ears, worrying him slightly. The door swung open and the guard came in.

“I-it’s okay. We’ve just reached a breakthrough is all. I’ll let you know if he gets too out of hand.” Harry said to the guard.

The guard left again and Harry looked back at the Joker who had a big smile across his face, chuckling deeply and menacingly.

_Guess he wasn't crying, just pretending._

“When I get out of here they're all going to wish they treated me better.”


	4. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the super late update, school's being a BITCH. But I made this a little sexual in hopes of making up for the wait. ♡

Harry gulped worriedly, watching the green haired man throw his head back with maniacal laughter, and he felt his hands getting sweaty. The man seemed to be going into his state of complete insanity, the tranquillisers now well worn off and leaving him in an agitated, unsedated state. And worst part of it was, although he was restrained, he wasn't chained down. He could easily climb over to Harry and hurt him.

“Joker,” Harry began after a solid minute of the man laughing at his muttered plans of ‘getting the hell out of here’ and ‘making them pay for what they did.’ “Please, try to remain orderly or I’ll be forced to call the guards in here.” He bit his lip.

The man lowered his head back down, his laughter finally ceasing, but he was left with a wicked grin and a devious look in his eyes. “Oh, _Doctor_ , you wouldn’t dare let them come in here and interrupt our session.” He leaned forward a bit. “You wouldn’t give them the green light to beat me unconscious with their batons, only to be taken to the warden’s office and whipped until my skin is broken and I’m left with welts on my back.”

Harry’s eyes widened only slightly, parting his lips as he looked up from his notes to look the man in the eye. “They do that?” He whispered, his heart, for some twisted reason, aching at the thought of the man getting tortured like that. Sure, he’d known they’d done it before, but hearing the man describe it in that way made him almost pity him. Granted, the Joker did it to others himself, but he was sick and needed help, not more fuel for his anger.

“All the time.” The man sat back against the wall, his tongue grazing over his metal teeth. “And you want to know why you wouldn’t let that happen to me, Doc?”

“Why?” Harry was honestly clueless. The Joker had a way of making his mind into mush when he turned the tables and began asking Harry questions, and the psychiatrist felt like all of his knowledge about anything sensible was pushed to the back of his brain, and the only thing he could think about was the clown in front of him.

After a slow exhale and a devious smirk, the man finally spoke. “Because you care about me. I can see it in your eyes…” He leaned forward. “I can see how your heart aches when we discuss my past. How your fingers twitched just then when I reminded you of the whippings. You wanted to reach out and touch me.” He breathed out again, his breathing become almost erratic and labored. “It’s different- it’s not pity, it’s more than compassion…” He closed his eyes. “Mm, yes, that’s it.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, utterly confused as to what the man was suggesting. “What?”

The green-haired man opened his eyes again and a grin spread across his face once again, sitting up and moving forward towards Harry. “Why do you act as if you don’t know?”

“As if I don’t know what?” Harry inched himself back, although he was already firmly pressed up against the wall, and the fact that the man was making his way over to him was putting him on edge. He knew he should’ve called for the guards, told them that not only was the man not responding to questions, and instead making idle chat, but he was now getting into his personal space. Harry should’ve screamed, but he didn’t want to.

Out of fear for what they might do to the man? No, not quite. Harry knew, and while he didn’t want the man receiving such harsh punishments for such minor discomfort, that wasn’t why he was letting the man corner him like this.

Maybe it was because the man was restrained, and he knew as long as the man’s hands were held to either side of him, he couldn’t cause any real damage.

Or maybe, while one part of him was trembling with fear because he was staring into the eyes of a psychopathic clown, the other part of him felt safe. Something was different between him and the Joker. He felt as though the man trusted him from the amount of respect and compassion he’d been showing him, making it known that he was determined and not just there for the paycheck at the end of the week.

Harry snapped back to reality when he felt the man’s breath on his face, the rush of warm air against his lips and the tip of his nose, and it was only then he’d realised that the man was hovering over him, panting almost animal-like in his face.

“You love me, Doctor Quinzel,” the man spoke once he saw Harry was listening, and he smiled, the silver of his teeth glinting slightly in the fluorescent lighting.

_Love him? He thinks I love him? Has he forgotten that I’m a doctor, and he’s a serial killer who I’m meant to be curing?_

“I-I…” Harry looked at the man, feeling as though the man’s words had gone into his ears and set off a bomb inside of his head, destroying every legitimate response he could’ve said. “Why….” He began carefully, not wanting to sound rude and upset the man, especially because of the proximity. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.” The man leaned down closer, the tip of his nose brushing Harry’s and immediately his skin flushed, his nose feeling as if it was on fire, despite the fact that the man’s skin was cold. “Why else would you still be here? You look at me with such… Admiration.” He closed his eyes, “You speak to me like an equal, rather than a monster. You display trust towards me, even though they try to fill your head with horror stories so you’ll be paranoid around me. You give me the time of day.” He opened his eyes, looking back into Harry’s green ones. “You look at me like this.”

Harry blinked for the first time in what felt like minutes. “L-like what?”

“Like I’m the only person in the world whose words matter to you.” The man closed the gap between their faces, his lips ghosting over Harry’s. “You’re looking at me like you want this more than I do,” he purred before pressing his lips against Harry’s, causing Harry’s stomach to immediately erupt with a swarm of butterflies, his lips tingling at the feeling. He wasn’t even thinking, he just closed his eyes and carefully raised his hands, gently cupping the man’s strong jaw, tracing over his smooth skin with his trembling fingertips.

While he knew it was wrong, knew it was practically flirting with death, but he couldn't seem to pull away. The Joker’s lips were something unlike any other man’s, and it wasn't because of the red lipstick smeared over them, or the way they contorted into a wicked smile when he thought of something evil. It was the way Harry’s bottom lip fit perfectly between the other’s, and how even while being so gentle and sensual, he still asserted some sort of dominance over Harry. It was the way he growled against Harry’s lips when Harry ran his fingers up into his green hair, the way his breath tasted like cigarettes and liquor.

It was the one thing Harry had never had in his life. It was chaos. Pure insanity. Sheer unpredictability.

Harry had only begun getting more into the kiss before the man pulled away, his icy blue eyes twinkling with amusement as he backed off towards his corner.

His cheeks tinged a light pink and he carefully checked his reflection in his phone to make sure the red of the man’s lips wasn't smeared over his own.

“I do.” he whispered, his fingers gently tracing over his lips, still tingling from the heated kiss.

\-----

For weeks after that, that's how Harry and the Joker’s sessions would go. It’d become a sort of routine, to quickly go through a few questions, just to have something to show the warden, and then they’d kiss each other's lips numb until the time was up and Harry would need to fix himself up before he called the guards in.

Slowly, but surely, Harry was falling for the man. He still knew he was to be feared, and he knew the man wasn't good for him, or anyone- for that matter. But the man was just a tortured, misunderstood soul, to him, and he knew with a little TLC, he could make the man right again.

Who else to fix him than the lad falling in love with him?

“God, _Doctor_ ,” the clown growled in Harry’s ear, making him giggle as he pulled him closer by one of the buckles on the straitjacket. “You smell good enough to eat.” he purred, dragging his lips across Harry’s neck.

“Shush.” Harry smiled, using his hand to tilt the man’s face back up so he could kiss his lips again, loving the way the man always let out a satisfied mmm when Harry kissed him. “I wish you were out of that stupid jacket,” he mumbled against J’s lips, letting the man tug his lower lip gently with his metal teeth.

“Mmm, me too, kitten.”

“Maybe the guards will let me start having sessions with you out of it.” he ran his fingers through J’s green hair, pulling back slightly to look in his eyes.

Joker grinned, “I suppose you could try.” he hummed, tilting his head up, his voice getting deeper. “Come on baby.”

Harry knew what the man wanted, his cheeks heating up again as he leaned back in, connecting their lips for what felt like the hundredth time, but still had that same fireworks feeling as it did the first time they’d kissed. His hands ran through the man’s hair, desperately wanting to feel J’s hands on him. If he’d known how to get the straitjacket off, he would've removed it then.

During their little makeout sessions, he’d always wonder where the Joker would rest his hands while kissing him. On his waist? No, too simple. On his ass? Probably. He seemed to be an ass person. Running up and down his thighs? _God. Please_.

Harry whimpered into the Joker’s mouth at the thought, causing the other man to part their lips. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered huskily, his teeth nipping at Harry’s lower lip. “Getting tired of Daddy?” he grinned which made Harry giggle, resting his forehead against him.

“Just… thinkin’.” he blushed and the man hummed, using his foot, as his hands were restrained, to nudge the boy as if to say ‘about what?’ Harry closed his eyes, gently placing his hands on J’s chest. “Wish you could touch me too.” his lower lip jutted out into a pout and J cooed.

“Oh, kitten.” he growled, making Harry smile sheepishly and scoot closer to him. “I do too.” he hummed, tilting his head down to kiss gently at Harry’s jawline. “Daddy wants to feel your soft, heated skin.” Harry tilted his head up, letting out a soft whine. J mouthed at the column of the boy’s neck, Harry’s adam's apple bobbing as he gulped to try and contain himself. “All in good time, baby. Patience. You can wait for Daddy, can't you?”

Harry nodded, bringing his gaze back down to the man sitting in front of him.

“Of course you can.” he purred, satisfied with Harry’s response.

\-----

Harry had been worried about raising suspicion when asking Dr. Arkham about having the Joker be free of restraints during their sessions, but luckily, Dr. Arkham had agreed with no convincing at all.

“Actually, what you’ve done is pretty spectacular, Doctor Quinzel.” the man spoke, while Harry sat opposite him in the warden’s office. “You’re the longest lasting therapist the Joker’s ever had, and not even a scratch on you yet. I don't know what you're doing, but you're getting us answers and you’re keeping him under control. So keep doing it.”

_Oh, I will._

“Thank you, really. I’ve poured my heart into our sessions and I really think he sees that.” Harry nodded, biting his lower lip slightly. He sure did. “And- you said you think our sessions could be held privately with no restraints… which I’m very glad you agree. But I’m curious; why do you agree? I thought it’d take some convincing, if not a lot.”

Dr. Arkham fixed his glasses. “Well, the staff here think that whatever magic touch you have, not only got the Joker to open up, but you’ve made him trust you. To what degree, remains unknown, but we think if you allow him to be without restraints, he’ll open up even further and respond better to treatment.”

Harry nodded in agreement, smiling. “Exactly. He needs to know that I see him as an equal, and if I were a regular therapist, I wouldn't make my patients wear straitjackets. I really think once Mister J… Joker, Mister Joker,” Harry coughed, rubbing his hands on his pants, growing increasingly nervous from the slip up he’d had. “I think once he sees that I don't fear him, he’ll be on the path to redemption in no time.

It was lies. All lies. All Harry wanted the man out of the straitjacket for was to touch him, to feel the man grab him in any way he saw fit.

The older man nodded. “I agree completely, Doctor. Of course, we won't leave you to fend for yourself completely. We will provide you with a remote. The remote, when pressed, will trigger the alarm and the guards will come in. If you feel you are in any danger, if he has a sudden… change in behaviour-”

“Of course.” Harry nodded. “That’s perfect.”

Dr. Arkham nodded and fixed his tie, sighing to himself. “Alright. Well, with that all worked out,” he grabbed the papers in front of him, signing his name at the bottom. “I authorise you to hold private sessions with the Joker, unchained.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Immensely. I won't let you down.” Harry reached forward, shaking the man’s hand.

The warden dismissed Harry promptly, allowing him to go to his office to prepare for his next session with the Joker, held in thirty minutes. He’d authorised Harry to hold sessions in his office, where he had a little couch for the man to lay down on while he asked questions.

_I did it. I’ve never lied to a boss before, especially not about something this huge._ Harry took a deep breath, smiling to himself.

\-----

A knock at the door pulled Harry from his thoughts, to which he called for whoever it was to come in. The guards dragged J in, handing Harry the remote the warden had told him about, and took the cuffs off of him. They seemed rather surprised when the Joker just stood there, instead of turning around and attacking them once the restraints were off.

“Alright. You know where we’ll be, Doctor.” Harry nodded at the man’s words and they left, leaving him alone with the man.

He should've been nervous, he should've been slightly apprehensive. Sure, the man had been civil up until then, but now he was free to do whatever he wanted.

The man stepped forward, a wicked grin on his face. Harry didn't move, his eyes just locked on the tall man’s face, letting the man inch closer and closer. Harry didn't know what the man was doing, as he was so unpredictable. The thing Harry loved most about the man, but what scared him, too. He could either be smiling as he plotted Harry’s death, or because he finally had the chance to grope him as he pleased.

He continued sauntering forward, his movements tauntingly slow, causing Harry’s breath to hitch in his throat. He neared the curly headed lad, and not a moment after, he was raising his hand up quickly and gripping Harry’s neck, making Harry’s eyes widen.

_Please tell me I didn't just make a horrible mistake._

The green haired man’s eyes were wicked, darker than usual, his grip around Harry’s neck strong yet loose, and all Harry could do was look up at him, his lips trembling.

A growl escaped the man’s blood red lips, “Finally, I’ve waited so long for this, kitten.” he craned his neck, exposing the tattoos Harry had admired from a distance, but never truly known what they were. “Oh, Daddy’s been waiting to play with you since our first session.” he purred, leaning down and kissing Harry hungrily, causing the boy to gasp and quickly reach his hands up, cupping the man’s face.

“Mmm.” Harry whined out as the man let go of his neck, pulling back and walking backwards, curling a finger as if to tell Harry to follow him.

He sat on the couch lazily, humming, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. J never ceased to put Harry into a state of awe, looking so ruggedly handsome as he sat there in his inmate outfit. His pale skin reflected the strips of sunlight seeping in through the blinds, his ruby red lips a dark contrast from his skin.

“Oh, come on,” J cooed, patting his lap. “Don't keep me waiting, baby. I’ve waited long enough.”

Harry stepped forward, his cheeks flushing as J grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling him forward until he landed on the man’s lap, his hands resting on his chest to stop from crashing into him. He looked up into the man’s eyes.

_Finally_.

“Mister J.” he whispered, feeling the man move his hands to run along Harry’s waist, down to his hips and the sides of his thighs. It felt like his flesh burned wherever the man touched, and he closed his eyes, absolutely drinking in the feeling.

“No, kitten. You know what I like to be called.”

Harry’s lips parted and he let out a slight whine as the man roughly squeezed his ass, making his head fall back. “Daddy.”

He moaned at how quickly J’s lips were attached to his neck, leaving wet, rough kisses against his skin as his large, strong hands pulled him closer, pressing against each other.

“Wish I could mark you up,” the man breathed, dragging his lips up Harry’s neck to his ear. “I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Wearing bruises from Daddy like a sign that you’re off limits?”

Harry breathed out slowly, nodding and running his fingers through the man’s hair. “Mm, yes Daddy.” he whispered, gasping as the man bit gently on Harry’s earlobe, tugging it with his teeth.

“Beg.” the man raised a hand up, taking a handful of his curls and tugging. “Show Daddy how much you want to be marked up. Mine.” he hissed, giving Harry's hair a sharp tug. Harry almost winced at the pain, but when it was coming from J, it almost turned him on. He loved how rough and rugged J was.

“Please,” Harry breathed out, dragging his hands down the man’s toned chest, closing his eyes and blushing at the feeling. “Please Daddy, mark me up. Make bruises that will remind me of how your hands feel against me.”

J growled and sunk his teeth into Harry’s skin and Harry pressed his lips together to hold in a yelp. It hurt, but it was J, it was his mouth, not just ordinary lips pressed against the skin, soothing over the indents left in his flesh. It hurt so good.

“Oh, my filthy little kitten. I can't wait to _destroy_ you.” he hissed into Harry’s ear.


	5. IV

To say Harry was falling for the man would be an understatement. To say he was already in love with him would be an understatement. Harry was _devoted_ to the man he used to be terrified of.

He was _devoted_ to the man who heartlessly killed and tortured thousands of people for leisure. He was _devoted_ to the man who used and tossed people around like rag dolls, and put a hole in their head once they were of no use to him.

He was _devoted_ and worst of all, blissfully unaware. He was too focused on the feeling of J’s hands running between his thighs that he didn't stop to think what the man meant when he said destroy him. He didn't make that connection as the man was sliding two fingers into him, and even if he had, who’s to say he would even care?

He was _devoted_ and he would do anything for the clown who made his stomach flip, who made his heart flutter, who made him feel alive. He’d make the man happy at all costs.

\-----

“J,” Harry giggled and clicked the pen, sitting on the man’s lap on the couch. “We have to write down some answers, then we can kiss.” he tried nudging the man’s lips off of his neck.

“Why can't we make out first and then make up some shit to satisfy them?” J whispered, dragging his hands up Harry’s thighs, making their way towards his upper inner thighs, the place that made Harry’s breath speed up.

Harry quickly pushed J’s hands away. “No! We have to do this. Please? Cooperate with me, Daddy.” he fluttered his lashes dramatically and J growled with lust.

“You're fucking lucky you're cute.” he grunted and looked at the papers. “Ask me the questions quick.”

“They’d like me to find out what your motive is. Why you commit the crimes you do,” Harry shrugged, sliding down a bit so he could lean his head back on J’s shoulder. “I know you've said you don't have a motive but they think you're just holding out. Should we make something up?”

J ran his fingers through his hair, his baby blues scanning the room as if they could find a book that would have all the answers he needed in order to be deemed sane. “Mm. Tell them it’s revenge.”

Harry clicked open the pen and scribbled the words down. “Revenge for what?”

“Bats. Always making me out to be this monster or some freak. Throwing my name around like it's his own.” he grumbled into Harry’s ear.

Harry turned his head and pressed a kiss to the man’s jawline.

“If it makes you feel better, I like that you’re a little freaky.” he giggled and J’s lips curved into a grin. “Never a dull moment with you, hm?”

J chuckled and tightened his grip around Harry’s waist. “Kitten, you haven't even seen me at my best yet.”

Harry set down the clipboard and his pen, moving to straddle J’s waist and wrap his arms around his neck. “I want to.” he whispered, resting his forehead against the man’s, their noses brushing together. “I want to see what you can do.”

Hopelessly devoted. It was like with every touch of J’s lips to his flushed skin, his brain was fogging up. It was like the sweet nothings J whispered into his ear had rotted his brain, tainting his former outlook on everything.

“Mmm, all in good time kitten.” J chuckled and patted the boy’s thighs. “I’ve got my men working on getting me out as we speak.”

Harry whined and closed his eyes, “Can I do anything to help? Speed things along? I’m tired of having to wait until our appointments.” he pouted dramatically and J cooed in faux sympathy. Harry opened his eyes, seeing the thoughtful look the man got whenever he spoke to Harry about his crimes.

“I suppose there is a teeny little favour you could do for me.” He grinned, bringing his blue eyes back to Harry and making his heart race.

“Anything, of course. Name it and I’ll do it.” Harry’s hands began shaking in excitement, placing them on J’s shoulders to calm himself.

J leaned in and his lips ghosted over Harry’s as he spoke. “I need you to get me a machine gun.” he whispered before closing the gap between their lips, just for a moment, before Harry pulled back.

“A machine gun?” his cheeks flushed slightly. Would he do it? _Hell yes. Anything for J._ Was he scared? _Hell yes._

“Mhm,” J shrugged nonchalantly and moved his hands up to brush the brown locks out of Harry’s face, grinning sinisterly at him. “You can do that for Daddy, can't you?”

Harry nodded and watched the satisfied smirk spread across his stained red lips. “Where do I get a machine gun?” he asked softly.

“I’ll give you the number of my best worker, Frost,” J dropped his hands back down. “When you call, tell him who you are. I’ve told him all about you.” J grinned and Harry giggled, his cheeks tinting red. “He’ll give you one. Smuggle it in under your coat.”

A slight chill ran down Harry’s spine at the thought. Machine guns weren't scary to him, and neither was J, but J escaping a mental asylum with a machine gun? He would admit, that thought was a little bone chilling.

“You won't hurt me right Daddy?” he needed the reassurance, although J’s next words wouldn't have any effect on his actions. He was going to get the gun for him anyway. Whether he’d regret it later or not. He’d do it for him.

J’s lips curled into an ‘o’ and he cupped Harry’s face. “Oh, kitten. Of course not.” he cooed and ran his thumb over Harry’s plump lower lip. “You’re Daddy’s most prized possession.”

Harry’s insides exploded with butterflies when the man said that, and he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, his fingers carding through neon green hair as they kissed hungrily.

_I’m getting him out of here. I need to do this. I owe it to him._

\-----

After that session, Harry had rushed home. Suddenly, he felt sick. Anxiety ridden sick. It was as though the rational part of him had set fire to his insides to try and smoke out the delusions J had put into him.

Harry gagged into the toilet, his fingers clutching the seat until his knuckles turned white. He retched once more, and after another round of spit up came out, he slumped back against the cold, tile wall of his bathroom. The tiles cooled his flaming skin, his hands shaking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

_J promised me I’d be okay._ He closed his eyes and breathed out shakily. _He promised. You're going to do this for him. Like J said: there's nothing to fear but fear itself._

A soft buzzing sound was reverberating off the tile floors, making Harry’s eyes open weakly and look around. He spotted his phone, which he’d dropped on his way to the bathroom. He carefully sat up and grabbed it, seeing the number of the man J had told him to text.

“H-” he cleared his throat. “Hello?”

“Yeah, Doctor Quinzel?” he heard the man’s slight Boston accent.

“Speaking.”

“Alright, well I’ve got J’s machine gun and ammo belt ready. It’ll fit under your lab coat.” he could hear the flipping of a lighter and an intake of breath, then he heard the man blowing out the smoke. “I’ll be by in ten minutes to drop it off.”

Harry closed his eyes. _Do it for J. Just focus on him and make him proud._

“Okay. I’ll be here.” he nodded, more or less to convince himself that he was confident.

The line went dead, causing Harry to hang up before putting his phone back down. He was going to do it, he was going to get J out of Arkham.

Another wave of nausea rolled through his stomach as he pictured how many people were going to die tomorrow. All of the guards, the nice ladies at the counter, maybe even Doctor Arkham.

He didn't know he was going to get the man killed when he started falling in love with J.

“Oh god.” he mumbled, dropping back down in front of the toilet and shakily holding himself over it. Nothing. Nothing came up. Nothing to show for the heinous act he was committing tomorrow.

He was only brought of his anxiety induced daze by three loud raps on the door. He heaved himself up, flushing the toilet and carefully walked himself to the front door. He dropped his phone on the couch, opening the front door.

The man was tall, buff, with dark eyes and a full, scruffy beard. He donned a slick black suit, immaculate of any stains. He had a pistol tucked into his waistband.

“You look like you’ve seen someone die.” the man chuckled, handing the weapon to Harry who took it with shaking hands. Terrible choice of words.

“Yeah, not quite yet. Soon.” Harry laughed nervously, setting the large weapon on his coffee table.

The large henchman smirked in amusement. “I like you already, Quinzel. But I suggest you toughen up if you're going to pull this off.” he spoke, putting his hand on the doorknob. “Boss hates weakness.” he stepped out and closed the door before Harry could respond.

Harry’s brows furrowed and he put his hand over his mouth as he gagged again. _Man up. This isn't about you, Harry. This is about the man you love and getting his freedom back from everyone who’s tried to stifle him._

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, removing his hand from his mouth.

“I need to take some medicine and go to sleep now if I’m going to pull this off.” he mumbled to himself, grabbing a tablet of Tums from the kitchen and a water bottle, heading off to his bed.

\-----

Harry’s lungs burned with the smell of smoke and blood filling the air. His eyes stung, and his body was squished under his desk to the best of his ability. To say he hadn't thought it through was an understatement.

First of all, he was late. He let his thoughts keep him up later than he intended. So consequentially, he woke up late. He’d rushed to work without a shower or breakfast, and it was paranoid city trying to act normal with the barrel of an AK-47 pressed against his stomach.

He was worried the reception desk woman had noticed he was acting skittish, so after he had hid the weapon under the couch in his office, he’d taken her a cup of coffee and a donut, trying to distract her with small talk until his appointment with the Joker.

He could feel the war raging inside of him, the sane side of him screaming that he was leading people to be murdered, and that he was just as bad as the Joker for aiding him in escape. But his insane side, the newer, more exciting side, was screaming to just do it. Just get it done and show J what he was capable of. After all, he’d asked for this.

J had shown up just minutes after Harry had finished getting situated, the guards unshackling him and mumbling their greetings to Harry before they stepped out and guarded the doors.

“Got what I asked for, kitten?” J had asked after kissing Harry’s lips roughly, as a show of how dominant he was, and the power he had over the boy, able to bring a whimper from him with the smallest movements.

“Yes Daddy.” He whispered, stepping back and carefully grabbing the gold plated gun from underneath the couch, placing it in J’s cold, pale hands.

The look on the man’s face was almost indescribable, a look of pure and utter power and chaos, tinged with anger and worst of all, amusement. He was going to enjoy every second of this.

J tightened his grip around the gun, hearing the gunshots from outside, signalling that his goons had arrived, and their plan to take over was in action. _Hahahahaha_. The man threw his head back and laughed maniacally and Harry began to panic. The look in his eyes, it wasn't his J, not the one he’d been pressing his lips to. Not the one who’d calmly explained the plans to him.

_No._

_This was the Clown Prince of Crime he’d just set free._

There he was, sitting under his desk and trembling slightly as he tried to stay quiet, the sounds of gunshots slowly diminishing. He could hear heavy footsteps in the hallways, the calm chatter of goons, the occasional laughter as they shot at an already dead corpse.

“Probably our most successful break in yet,” one of the henchmen said as he put the safety of his gun back on, slipping it back into the holster.

“Yeah, thanks to this Doctor Quinzel who fell in love with Boss. Practically handed him the keys to the cell.” the other one laughed and soon they had walked too far away and he could no longer hear them.

Harry closed his eyes and wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead onto his lab coat, his face sticky and dirty with the grey ashes sticking to him. He couldn't even begin to comprehend what he’d just done. But it was over.

The familiar sound of J’s laugh echoed faintly through the halls, and as the laughter died off, the footsteps grew closer. Menacingly slow.

“Come out come out wherever you are,” he heard the low growl as the footsteps stopped in the door of his office. Harry held his breath, squeezing his hands into fists.

_This is not my J. This is not my J. This is not my J._

He could hear the agitated groan as the man stepped in, beginning to check behind the door, the closets, checking under the couch. His footsteps stopped in front of the desk and it was silent except for J’s laboured breathing before he slid his arm across the desk, throwing everything from it to the floor, shattering the glass vase, the picture frames.

“Do _not_ test my patience kitten. Daddy has work to do.” the man slammed his hands down on the table, causing Harry to squeak slightly at the sudden noise. “Oh…” he heard the man as he began walking around, bending down to look at Harry’s crumpled frame. “Gone all sane on me again, have you?” he cocked his head, his green hair disheveled and blood splattered across the pale skin of his face.

Harry’s lips trembled as he looked at the man’s bloodshot eyes. _That isn't J. This wasn't my tortured soul, my sweetheart wearing a mask of chaos. This is darkness personified._

“Now that just won't do.” he reached down and grabbed Harry by his hair, yanking him up. “You can't leave me now, kitten. You’ve shown me so much potential.” he whispered, grabbing his arms and bending them behind his back.

Harry yelped, _this didn't feel good. This wasn't the kind of pain he enjoyed, it wasn't erotic; it was malevolence. The intent to harm._

J began dragging the curly haired lad out of his office, his grip tight around the boy’s skin.

“Don't you worry.” J grinned, “Daddy’s going to fix you right up.”

\-----

“Stop!” Harry yelled and kicked his legs as the Joker’s henchmen were grabbing each of his limbs, holding him spread out on the operation table in Arkham. “Let me go! J!” he screamed for help, but the man was nowhere to be found. He felt tears well up in his eyes, feeling the leather restraints tighten around his ankles. “Get off me!” he clenched his teeth, trying not to show weakness. “Let me go!”

The restraints were tightened around his wrists and he had no choice but to lay there, his body pressed against the cold metal slab, the flickering fluorescent lights blurring his vision even further.

His heart pulsed in his ears, and he drew in ragged breaths, his eyes darting around the room at the many men who stood guard, none of which were familiar or showed any concern for what he was saying.

“ _Well whatta we have here_?” he heard J’s voice and he breathed out, partly in relaxation, partly in terror. He knew this wasn't the J who would protect him, but the small part of him held onto the hope that he was still there.

The lights were turned off and instead a yellow, dim overhead lamp was clicked on, thrusted down into the boy’s face, and as Harry’s eyes adjusted, he saw J. Panting, his chest heaving with the sheer intensity of his urge to rip the boy to pieces.

_My filthy kitten, I can't wait to destroy you._

A tear finally slipped out of Harry’s eye, running down his temple as he heard the snap of rubber gloves being pulled onto J’s hands.

“You gonna kill me Mister J?” he whispered, his voice trembling as he looked at the blurry man over top of him.

“What?” J asked, a smug grin crossing his face as he clicked on the electroshock therapy machine, the electrical buzzing coming to life. He looked down at Harry. “Oh, kitten, I’m not gonna kill you.” he grabbed the metal rods and held them inches away from Harry’s head. “I’m just gonna hurt you.. really, really bad.” he growled.

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed as a wave of adrenaline ran through his body.

_I asked for this. This is my J, in his truest form._

His eyes opened and he saw the man clearly, the tears seemingly dried up.

“You think so?” he whispered, “Well I can take it.” he whispered, nodding, and J’s maniacal laughter was the last thing he heard before the rods were pressed to his temple, and his vision went white. His body convulsed as one thousand volts of electricity ran through him, burning his flesh and searing his insides.

He could feel his body slump down as the rods were removed from his temples, only to be placed back after J had upped the voltage, pressing the rods against his head once more.

_White. Green. White. Red. White. Green. Red. Purple. White._

_Black._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fastest chapter I've ever written I was so morbidly excited to write this omg. I hope you liked it !! Comment your thoughts on this story and thank you so much for reading. ♡


	6. V

Harry's body felt weighed down, as if someone had tied a bag of rocks around his wrists and ankles, and left them dangling over the edge of the bed. He felt the blood in his temples pulsing, his eyes opening slightly, only to be clamped shut again by the sensitivity to the light.

_Where am I?_

He carefully lifted his hand up, using all of his energy to open his eyes and use his hand to block some of the sun out his eyes. He tried leaning up, the room spinning as he was upright.

It was bright. _Too_ bright. The gold silk bed sheets under him were cool. _Too_ cool. The blood pulsing in his ears was loud. _Too_ loud. Everything was too much.

"You're awake." he heard to the right of him, and so he turned, seeing J in the bathroom, shaving in the mirror. He squinted his eyes, trying to adjust as he watched the man glide the razor along his jawline. "We made one hell of an escape, kitten." the man chuckled, running the razor under the tap and using a towel to wipe any excess shaving cream off of his face.

He had on black dress pants, black dress shoes, a white dress shirt and an untied black tie slung over his shoulders. There were two guns tucked into holsters on either side of his belt, and his green hair was neatly combed back.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around at the unfamiliar setting around him. The walls were a champagne colour, the bed sheets white and gold silk, the furniture all black and the walls had a few green and purple graffiti marks on it, though his vision was blurry, so he couldn't make it out.

"We're home." J grinned, cupping Harry's face and patting it gently. "And we are going to have so much fun together." his voice was dark and husky, and his eyes held the look that Harry had seen when he was helping the man escape.

Except he wasn't afraid. The look of destruction in the man's eyes didn't scare him anymore. The sight of guns and blood splatters on the walls didn't matter anymore. The thought of J being a cold hearted killer didn't scare him.

"I'm home." Harry whispered, bringing his eyes back up to J's. "With you, I'm home." he repeated with more confidence now, and he could see the slight grin take over the man's lips. He leaned up, his stiff muscles beginning to loosen as he wrapped his arms around J's neck, kissing his lips and whimpering as if it'd been months since he'd last touched the man's skin.

It hadn't been months, but it'd been too long. He loved J too much to be away from him for even a second. He was obsessed, completely controlled and captivated by the evil man. It was an all consuming love, and Harry didn't mind it one bit. It was everything he'd ever wanted.

He had power now. He had chaos. He had life.

Best of all, he had the most gorgeous man in the world who had given it to him. Who had destroyed him and gave him a whole new life to begin.

"Mm," J pulled away, chuckling under his breath. "Listen, kitten, Daddy loves the kisses but I've got work to do now." he whispered and Harry couldn't help the childish pout that took over his lips. "Oh, come on. You need to clean up anyway."

Harry sighed softly and nodded, kissing J's cheek and getting himself off the bed, carefully but not so gracefully stumbling to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and turned to look at J, but he'd already left.

Harry frowned.

He didn't like being away from the man, in fact, it made him feel uneasy. It was the man who had given him purpose, who had changed his whole life, and he didn't know what to do when the man wasn't there telling him what to do.

"Gotta clean myself up." he whispered, undressing himself. He was still wearing his work uniform, but his lab coat had been pulled off. He started the water and stepped into the slippery solid marble shower, holding on to the little soap rack to keep himself from falling. It was like his limbs were still waking up.

He stood under the scalding hot water for a bit, it burnt his skin and it felt like his flesh was searing off, but it reminded him of how his skin felt when J touched it. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, getting his hair wet.

_I'm home._

He smiled to himself and washed his hair, using some of J's body wash to scrub himself down and he got out, happily sniffing his hands as he wrapped the towel around himself. He smelled just like the man, and it was like a protective bubble around him. A reminder that J was his king, and would always protect him.

He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist, frowning slightly as he looked around. He didn't have any clothes.

He opened the door and poked his head out, gasping when he saw multiple boxes full of clothes, shoes and other necessities.

"Oh, Mister J is so thoughtful." he whispered to himself, opening the door and pulling the boxes in, unpacking them onto the bed. J had gotten the boy everything he could've asked for, skinny jeans, sweats, _yoga pants_? Shirts, sweaters, beanies, boots, sneakers, boxers and _panties_. Harry blushed as he picked up the thin pink material. "And kinky."

He put the panties back down and put on a clean pair of boxers along with some black skinnies and a lavender sweater that had been put in the bag. He brushed through his curls with the brush he'd been given and shook them slightly, sighing happily to himself.

"Much better." he walked to the door and stepped out, walking down the hallway. He was met with a grand staircase leading down to the first floor, the big chandelier just to the right of it, next to the foyer.

Harry frowned to himself. _I miss J_. He looked around at the seemingly empty mansion. The TV was on in the spacious living room, but nobody was in there, and there was a half empty beer sitting on the kitchen counter, still cold.

He bit his thumb nail as he began walking around the bottom floor, looking for J. Where was he? Was he okay?

He reached what was seemingly the back of the mansion, seeing a long hallway and at the end there were two large men standing at the door. He squeaked and smiled, running to them.

"Is J in there?" he asked, watching them look at him suspiciously.

"Who the hell are you?" one of the men asked, and the second one turned to him.

"That's... Well, that was Doctor Quinzel. One who helped boss get out of Arkham." The man removed his mask and Harry smiled as he recognised him.

"Hi Frost! Can I go see J?" he asked, moving to step forward but the men blocked him. "What?" he furrowed his brows, his heart picking up. _I want my J_.

"Boss is busy. You're gonna have to wait." the unknown guard said, glaring at Harry. "Now scram."

Harry looked up at him, putting his hands on his hips in a more dramatic way than he intended. "I want to see my boyfriend."

"He ain't your boyfriend. Now scram before I put a bullet through your skull!" the guard growled and Frost reached a hand over, slapping the man's chest. Alpha 01.

"No touching him. Boss' orders." Frost muttered before looking back at Harry. "We can't let you in. Sorry."

Harry glared at Alpha 01. "Fine. Thank you, Frost." he dropped his hands and turned around. "You, you're a prick." he called over his shoulder. "And he is my boyfriend."

\-----

Harry had found a comfortable place on the couch with a beer can and some popcorn, watching reruns of Friends. He was halfway through the episode where Rachel found out she was pregnant before he heard a gunshot, making him flinch at the noise. He turned his head, hearing the door open and he could hear J let out an exaggerated sigh.

He squealed and set down the popcorn, getting up to run over to the man.

"Daddy!" he held his arms out, watching the man turn to him. "Whatcha been up to? I've missed you, handsome!"

"Go away." he muttered, wiping some blood off his face. Harry looked past him into the room that had been locked before, seeing a man slumped over in the chair, blood dripping from his bottom lip. His eyes widened slightly, but he turned back to the man anyway. The man didn't look happy, seething with anger, to be exact, and the boy got worried.

Harry's heart sped up. "Daddy?" he whispered, stepping forward and gently touching J's cheek. His skin was cold. The man growled and grabbed Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly, making him cry out in pain. He could hear his fingers cracking as the man squished his fingers in his death grip.

"I said go away! I'm _busy_!" he yelled so loud that it echoed through the dimly lit hallway. He let go of Harry's hand and shoved him back, Harry's eyes brimming with tears.

"I just wanted to see how you were." he whispered before he turned around, quickly walking away. J didn't call after him, and that made him feel even worse. He just wanted to make sure the man was okay and he got his hand almost broken because of it?

_I know he's not the conventional gentleman but he's my gentleman. He's tortured and he's evil and he's sadistic but he treats me like a queen. He's twisted and he's arrogant and impatient but he loves me. Why is he treating me like this all of a sudden?_

Harry sat down on the couch, rubbing his hand sorely and frowning. He pulled the blanket back over him and a little bit aggressively turned the TV back on.

He idly watched the TV for a few more minutes, not really listening to what was being said, but he stared at the faces and watched the lips move.

The aching to be by J's side was still burning in his chest, and he wanted nothing more to go find him and sit on his lap, but he wouldn't. He didn't want to bother the man anymore than he already had.

\-----

"Baby." Two large, cold hands were placed on Harry's shoulders as he watched yet another rerun of friends. "What's my kitten up to?"

"Icing my hand." Harry grumbled, motioning to his hand which had an ice pack resting on it. He didn't turn around to look at him. "Done with work?"

"Mm." the man leaned down, pressing lips to Harry's neck. "Daddy didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I was just too worked up to deal with you." he murmured, gently sucking at the skin. Harry's fingers twitched. "You have to listen to me when I say something. I don't like repeating myself."

Harry bit his lip at the feeling of the man biting the soft skin of his neck, surely leaving a dark mark.

"Sorry, Daddy. I'll listen better next time." he whispered. He could practically hear the smile J had on his face as Harry turned around, wrapping his arms around J's torso, the back of the couch still between them. "I missed you today." he looked up at the man.

"I missed you too, doll. But you have to understand that Daddy has business to take care of, and I'm not always going to be there to hug when you want it." he ran his pale, tattooed fingers through the boy's curls. Harry nodded in understanding, looking up at the man lovingly. _This is my J. My sweet, romantic J._

"Do I ever get to help you out Daddy? I could go undercover for you. Or distract someone..." he thought for a few moments. "I don't know how to use a gun but I could hit someone."

J chuckled and leaned down, tilting Harry's chin up so he could kiss him.

"You will be put to work soon, kitten." he hummed and pulled the boy up, grabbing his slightly bruised hand and gently kissing his knuckles. "You have so much potential." he hummed, reaching his hand up, placing it over Harry's mouth. He looked down at it, and saw it was the one with the smile tattoo. "I'm going to make you into something you've only dreamed of being."

Harry purred playfully into J's hand, watching the man smirk. "I can't wait." he whispered.

  
_**Mama I’m in love with a criminal. And this type of love isn't rational, its physical. Mama please don't cry, I will be alright. All reason aside, I just can't deny, I love the guy.** _

  
\-----

Harry had slowly gotten used to not being able to see the Joker until he was done working, except for those special occasions when the man would let him join in on the fun.

“Morning, Frost!” he smiled as he walked down the hallway, after having the men tell him J wanted him. “Morning, prick.” he smiled at Alpha 01 who snarled at him.

Frost opened the door and allowed Harry to walk in. His hips swayed slightly as he walked over to J’s desk, taking a seat on it and chewing his bubble gum. Quietly. J hated when Harry got too loud when he wasn't in the mood.

“P-please, I’ve got no idea what he’s planning on doing to you! I swear!” the tied up man was crying, his eyes darting from J’s face to Harry’s. “Please, let me go. I’ll find out! Honest!”

J’s upper lip twitched and he let out a low growl. “You’re pathetic.” he muttered, walking to Harry. “You think your tears are going to make me believe that bullshit you just spewed at me? You think I don't know you're one of Harvey’s best men!” He yelled, slamming his hands down on the table. Harry just turned his head to watch the man, admiring the way his jaw tensed and his biceps flexed.

“I’m not! You’ve got the wrong guy! You're wrong!” the man yelled as more tears rolled down his face, struggling with the restraints. “If I had the information I’d give it to you but I don't! Please, Joker, spare me. My wife needs me.”

Harry blew a quiet bubble, watching the man run his fingers through his green hair.

“You hear this, kitten, Harvey’s out there looking to get my head on a silver platter and this guy’s giving me the old sob story about his wife.” he looked at Harry, who furrowed his brows. “Like I’m gonna worry about his problems when I’m a walking target.”

“Nobody’s getting their hands on you.” He said, picking up one of the knives off of J’s desk and walking to the tied up man. “I’ll peel every inch of skin off your body if you think you’re gonna kill my Daddy.”

The man quaked with fear and shook his head. “I don't! Please, have mercy, I beg of you.” the man looked at the sharp blade as Harry pointed it at him.

“Daddy?” he asked, still looking at the trembling man in front of him. He could feel his heart rate quickening with anger at the thought of this man working for someone who wanted to kill his boyfriend.

“Yes kitten?” He heard the sound of J loading his revolver with bullets.

Harry turned his head to look at him. “Can I take care of him this time?” he asked, watching the man’s lips curl up into a demonic smile.

“Of course, doll face.” he set the gun down and watched him, nodding. “Go on. Think about how he’s been plotting my death. Think of waking up to my cold, _lifeless_ body laying on the ground, because this little twat begged for mercy and received it.”

Harry’s chest rose and fell heavily as he turned back to the man. “You would never lay a finger on him.” he whispered angrily. “You can't hurt my J!”

“I wouldn't! Please, I wouldn't, I swear on my life!” the man tried raising his hands but they were tied to the chair.

Harry didn't hear his pleas for mercy as he grabbed the man’s head and tilted it back. He could only hear the Joker laughing and the mantra of save him. _Save him. Save him. Save him._

He held the man’s jaw tight, pressing the knife against his throat, and he looked up shakily at J. He’d never gotten so worked up before, and he’d never done the killings himself before. He could feel the man’s pulse against his fingers where they were pressed against his skin. Still, his eyes remained locked on J. The man wasn't looking at him, but his head was thrown back, his hands gripping onto the desk in front of him. Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile.

_He’s my happiness. He’s my home. He created me._

_Save him._

Harry grunted slightly as he dragged the knife across the man’s neck, letting go of him. The man’s heavy breathing turned quickly into gargling and spitting up before he went silent and his head fell forward, blood dripping down the front of his body.

“I did it.” he whispered, looking up at J. “I saved you, Daddy!” he whispered, running to him and cupping his face. “I did it.” he whispered.

“No you didn't.” J chuckled and moved the boy’s hands, stepping past him and moving to grab the knife off the floor, completely ignoring the man’s dead body as he wiped the blade clean on the man’s suit. “Harvey’s still got a whole army of men after me. If you want to save me, you’re gonna put yourself to good use. Or stay out of my way.”

Harry’s lower lip jutted out. “I’d love to help Daddy. But you could at least say thank you.” he whispered, crossing his arms.

J set the knife down on the desk and cupped the boy’s face, kissing him roughly and hungrily for just a moment before he pulled back. He didn't speak, but Harry smiled in satisfaction. That was his thank you.

“Go tell Frost to clean this mess up.” J said, sitting down at his desk again and grabbing some rolled up papers.

“Why Frost, though? He's nice. How about the other guy? His uniform says Alpha 01. Don't know his actual name. He’s a real dick to me.” Harry sat on the corner of the desk, looking down at the man’s red lips longingly. “Threatened to shoot me.” he whispered.

J’s jaw tightened and Harry couldn't tell if he was angry that Harry’d been threatened or if it was because he still hadn't gotten someone to clean this mess up.

“Call them _both_ in here then.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the tone of the man’s voice, hopping off the desk and opening the door, telling both men that the Joker wanted them. They both walked in, standing straight in front of the desk.

“Now,” J growled, putting his feet up on the desk and grabbing his gun, twirling it around his finger. “I hear Griggs threatened to put a bullet in my kitten’s skull. Am I hearing correctly?” He asked.

Griggs looked over at Harry, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes.

“Listen, Boss, I didn't know who he was at the time and I didn't want him interrupting-” J raised the gun and shot the man in the shoulder, making him gasp and grab onto it to stop the bleeding as he groaned in agony. “You little shit!” he spat at Harry. “Now look what you did! You’re just a whore he’s gonna kill eventually-” J shot the man again, through the head, watching him fall to the floor.

Harry’s lips parted and he watched J set the gun down calmly on the desk.

“Frost you’ll clean this up.” he stood, fixing his tie and sighing heavily.

“Course, Boss.” Frost nodded and made a quick work of grabbing the supplies he’s need to clean the corpses up. Harry watched for a moment before following J.

“M’sorry Daddy.” he whispered, following J to his bedroom. “I didn't mean to get one of your men killed.” he whispered.

J turned around and placed his hands on Harry’s cheeks. “You didn’t.” he spoke, leaning down to press his lips against Harry’s. “He got himself killed.”

Harry frowned and looked up at J. “Why did he say that about me being a whore you were gonna kill?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. “You’d never kill me, Daddy. What’s he talkin’ about?”

J hummed and dropped his hands down to Harry’s ass, making the curly haired boy giggle and push back into his touch. “If I wanted you dead you'd be dead by now, doll. But you’re not just some whore, you’re my most prized possession, remember?”

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “Good.” he kissed the green haired man's lips. “Cause I’d die for you. I’d protect you with my life if I had to.” he whispered, running his fingers through J’s hair, watching the man get a mischievous grin. “What?”


	7. VI

“ _Daddy_.” Harry whined, laying on his stomach on the end of the bed and staring at J who was getting dressed. “Why can't I go with you? I’m bored.” he pouted, watching the man slide his multitude of rings on his long, slender fingers.

Harry had come to find out J owned most of the clubs in Gotham, and they were all strip clubs. Meaning J was constantly surrounded by naked girls, only wearing a thong or bra- maybe. This made Harry just a bit mad.

He trusted J, and he knew the man wasn't going to cheat on him. But he couldn't help but imagine him getting drunk and getting a lap dance from one of the strippers, calling them all the filthy names he called Harry. He always wondered why J never invited him or agreed to take him, wondering if his conscience was wrong and maybe J was seeing women on the side because Harry wasn't enough.

The thought made Harry’s blood boil. But he wasn't acting on it since he had no proof.

“Because you're not ready.” The man spoke simply, placing a thick gold chain around his neck. His burgundy shirt was only half buttoned, revealing the tattoos on his chest. His hair was slicked back as usual.

Harry huffed. “But you leave for so long and I’m tired of sitting at home.” He could see J’s jaw tighten in the mirror. “Please.” he pouted his lower lip out and reached for J. “Please Daddy.”

“ _Kitten_.” That was his warning.

“ _Daddy_.” he mocked the man’s tone, smiling smugly when he turned around, his teeth clenched and his hands ready to raise up and smack him.

“Harry, I said no. Now stop before I bruise your pretty face.” he threatened and Harry hesitated for a moment. He knew if he kept going he risked getting hurt, but sometimes when he nagged J enough he’d give in just to shut him up.

“Please.” he purred and stood up, moving in front of the taller man and kissing his jawline. “I won't bother you, I’ll just sit there and look pretty.” he whispered and he could feel the man’s throat vibrate under his lips from groaning.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” the man growled under his breath, pushing Harry back onto the bed, who stopped and looked up at him in shock. But before he could speak the man had climbed over top of him, kissing his lips hungrily and almost as if he was focusing his anger on Harry’s lips. He bit, tugged, sucked on Harry’s lower lip as Harry whined in pleasure, tugging his green hair.

“But you love me.” Harry giggled and closed his eyes as J kissed down his torso, towards his thighs which were uncovered, his icy blue gaze locked on Harry’s wide, lust blown green one. He was wearing only the panties J had gotten him, _experimenting_ , _okay?_ and one of the man’s oversized button ups.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he felt J kissing his inner thighs softly. “Daddy.” he whispered, reaching down and running his fingers through the man’s hair.

“You still want to go to the club with me, kitten?” the man whispered, pressing lingering kisses closer and closer to where Harry wanted him, making the boy shiver slightly but nod. “Good. Then get up and get ready.” he stood abruptly and pulled Harry up, kissing his lips before heading towards the door. “We leave in ten minutes.”

Harry sat there with a shocked look on his face for a few moments. What a tease. He huffed and stood up, throwing on a loose floral button up that he liked, leaving it slightly unbuttoned like J did, and some black skinnies. His brown boots were slightly tattered from wearing them so much and always getting a little bit scuffed up on J’s missions, but he still found them to be his favourite shoes.

He quickly walked down the steps as he heard J laying on the horn relentlessly. Impatient bastard.

He quickly hopped in the car and closed the door, buckling himself up and glaring at the man. “Thank you for that.” he mumbled, buckling himself up. J just chuckled and sped off without warning, and Harry gripped onto the handle above the door. It was the only way he was able to avoid being thrown around the car with the man’s reckless, haphazard driving.

“Next time listen when I say I don't want you going to the club with me. I won't hesitate to give you blue balls again.” he muttered as he made a sharp turning, throwing Harry and himself to the side. Harry pouted dramatically.

“Mean.”

J grinned and looked over at him. “Are you just now meeting me?” he spoke in a teasing voice that made Harry’s cheeks flush. “I’ve always been mean.”

“Not to me.” Harry giggled and leaned over and kissed the man’s cheek, admiring him. The man was simply stunning.

Well, actually, stunning didn't even describe him. He was indescribable. Everything about him sent Harry into a trance.

He could remember the first day he’d seen the man. He remembered how pale and almost sickly he looked under the fluorescent lights in Arkham. He’d thought it was just how bright it was, but the man truly was white. White as could be, making even Harry look tan. But he came to love it, he came to love the contrast between his ghost white skin and the jet black of the ink on his chest and arms. He especially loved the tattoos on the man’s fingers, the diamond, club, spade. His ring finger was blank, as if he didn't want he heart on himself.

Harry’s eyes trailed over the man’s face as he drove, the man’s lashes dark and thick, though he had no eyebrows, and his green hair seeming to never fade. He’d always wondered whether J dyed his hair that way or if he was naturally like that. His eyes skimmed over the dark ink reading Damaged across the man’s forehead, down to the jagged J just against his cheekbone under his left eye. He’d noticed a faint star on the man’s right temple, that seemed to have faded with time, as well as a few scars on his cheek, forehead and upper lip.

He was eccentric, no doubt about it, but _God_ did Harry find the man beautiful.

“Don't give me that look kitten,” the man’s words pulled Harry back to reality, slamming on the breaks and throwing Harry forward. Luckily he’d worn his seatbelt.

“What look, Daddy?” he asked, steadying himself and shaking his head at the man’s reckless driving.

The Joker chuckled and reached over, cupping the boy’s jaw with a strong hand and kissing his lips. “You look like you’re about to pounce on me, and as much as I’d love that,” he tugged Harry’s lower lip with his metal teeth before letting go. “Daddy’s got work to do.”

Harry blushed slightly and nodded, unbuckling himself and following the man out of the car.

“What work tonight?” he asked, following the taller man inside and thanking him when he held the door for him.

“Enforcing a deal that I made with someone. Either they keep up their end of the bargain or they face the consequences.” he spoke simply, leading the boy through the crowd of the club, ignoring the sweaty, dancing bodies bumping into him. Harry held onto the man’s fingers, not wanting to lose him in the sea of people.

Harry looked around at the flashing lights, the strippers on poles in glass cages, the dark corners where people were making out, the smell of alcohol and sex reeking the air.

He felt a sharp tug on his hand, realising he’d stopped and J was trying to yank him along. “Sorry.” he whispered. It’d just take some getting used to, as he’d never stepped foot in a place like that before J had come along.

Finally, he and J met a wall of beads strung up, and J pushed through, exposing a private lounge of white leather couches, a small round table, end tables with wine in ice buckets, glasses already sat out on the table. Nobody else was in there.

“Is this your area of the club?” Harry asked as J took a seat, sitting next to him and gently brushing his hair back.

“This is my club.” J chuckled, kissing Harry’s temple and making his cheeks flushed. _God_ was he whipped.

“Oh.” He nodded and watched as the bartender walked into the private lounge, politely, but quite nervously, taking their orders. J ordered a grape soda with vodka while Harry ordered a simple lemonade. “So who are we waiting on?” he asked curiously, watching J’s fingers curl around the handle of the gold plated cane.

J turned to look at him for a moment, his tongue darting out over his lower lip. “Just on a fellow unreliable dickhead.” he gave the boy a slight grin.

“So what’s gonna happen?” Harry asked, taking a sip of the lemonade as the waiter set it down and quickly scurried off. He watched J stir his own beverage with his straw.

“Either he’s going to hold up his end of the deal or I’m going to paint the walls with his blood.” he muttered nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. “He should be here any minute.” he looked at his watch. “I’m getting impatient.”

Harry bit his lip slightly and drank some more of his lemonade. He knew J was armed, Hell, he always was. The man always had a gun or knife with him, even when just walking around the house. But he couldn't help but worry about the man, whoever it was, that was coming to meet with the Joker. Surely he’d be armed too, and what if he was faster than the Joker? What if things got ugly and the green haired man got shot?

Harry sighed heavily and J looked over at him. “What?”

He looked up at him and shrugged slightly. “Nothin’. I’m just worried you might get hurt is all.” he moved over and gently rested his head on J’s shoulder, his hand coming up to run over the man’s chest. “I don't want any mean men coming in and hurting my Daddy.”

The man’s chest vibrated under his fingers from laughter. “Oh kitten he couldn't hurt me if I gave him a knife and stood inches away from him. I’ll always beat him.”

Harry stayed silent.

_I love you, but you're not invincible. Just be careful. I don't want my Daddy going anywhere._

He closed his eyes but was soon nudged off as he heard beads clicking together, signaling someone was walking into the lounge area.

Harry’s eyes opened and he looked up, seeing a tall, buff man with a bald head and dull blue eyes. He was rather normal looking, surprisingly, clad in a regular business suit and tie.

“Joker.” the man reached his hand out to J, who just cocked his head to the side. “Right then.” he muttered, shoving his hands back in his pockets and sitting down at the fold up chair the waiter had put there.

Harry noticed many of J’s guards had showed up, one at the front door of the club, two at the entrance of the lounge and one towards the back exit. What would J need them for if he could handle it?

“So you wanted to speak with me about the deal?” the man asked, watching J who was taking another drink, taking his sweet old time.

“ _Alexander_.” the man finally growled out, leaning forward with a grin as he not-so-gently put his glass down on the table. “Relax. I’m not going to bite ya.” The bald headed man looked at J apprehensively. “I’m just reinforcing your end of the deal. You owe me fifty thousand big ones. Cash. Where is it?”

Alexander glanced at Harry, his mouth opening to speak, but didn't say anything. Harry’s brows furrowed.

“ _Where is it_?” the man asked again, his voice clearly more agitated now, and his fists were resting on the table, his knuckles turning even whiter- if that was even possible.

“Uh, look J,” the man began and Harry turned to look at his boyfriend. He looked as though he was ready to snap the man’s neck in half, his head leaned forward as if personal space didn't matter. “I’ll have to get it back to you soon. I got the money but then paid off Harvey for a mission I owed him on.”

“ _ **What**_?” J boomed and leaned forward, grabbing the man by his necktie. “ **You fucking idiot! Don't you know that two faced moron is doing everything he can to put me in my grave? And you just paid him with my money! You give him my money and get me killed!** ”

_My J is so powerful. This man is nearly terrified of him._ Harry smiled, seeing the man's eyes flash full of terror, unable to move out of the Joker’s grip.

“I’ll get it back! Fuck- I swear!” the man looked at Harry, as if he’d help.

“No, you won't. That requires skill and loyalty-” J suddenly smiled and let go of the man, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of his drink. Before Harry could even process what was happening, the Alexander guy had a gun pressed to J’s forehead, his hand shaking slightly. “A concept you are _completely_ lost on.” he continued calmly.

Harry’s eyes widened, seeing the man’s finger curl around the trigger loosely. “Hey!” he yelled and smacked the gun away from J’s face, the bullet shooting into the wall as it fell from the man’s hands. “Don't you _ever_ threaten him, you asshole!”

J just smirked and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and letting Harry prove to him how violent he’d get in order to save him.

“Fuck off rug rat.” the man muttered and Harry narrowed his eyes. “This is between adults.”

“I am an adult, asshole, and if you want to hurt him you’d have to kill me first, and I’ll slit your throat without hesitating.” he growled.

“Listen, I don't fight with J’s whores. I fight with J.” the man glared at Harry and Harry stood up.

“ _ **I’m not his whore**_!” he yelled, taking the man down to the ground and punching him in the jaw. His knuckles cracked, and it hurt, but he didn't care. His vision was blurred with tears of frustration and his mind was clouded with the thoughts of J being hurt, and everyone referring to him as just another whore.

_I’m so much more than just his little whore._ He felt his fist connect with the man’s face again, and again, and as he pulled back to breathe he felt the man flip them over, and a blade pressed to his neck.

“You’re right. You’re not his whore. You just _a_ whore. Even he deserves better than an annoying little pussy like you.” the man growled, pressing the blade against Harry’s throat harder. “You can't even hurt me. You’re as scary as a five year old girl.”

“Get off of me.” Harry growled through his teeth.

“Or what?” the man smirked, pinning Harry’s hand to the ground as he tried to reach his hand up and smack him.

“Or my Daddy’s gonna get you.” Harry smiled as he saw J behind the man, sinking a knife into his shoulder. The man let out a hoarse cry and rolled off of Harry.

“Son of a bitch!” he screamed, yanking the blade out and holding it up but J was quick to kick the man in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Harry giggled and stood up, stepping on the man’s hand which had the knife in it, crushing it and watching him scream out in pain.

He saw the puddle of blood around the man’s shoulder, and he reached over to grab his gun off the floor.

“Don't you fucking dare.” he hissed at Harry, who had moved his foot onto his chest, digging his heel into the man’s ribs. “You won't pull the trigger.”

“Who says?” Harry tilted his head to the side, looking at J who just grinned at him.

“You don't have the guts to kill anyone. Like I said, you're just a regular whore who thinks he’s hot. But you're incompetent; the only thing you're good for is sucking his dick.” He spat.

Harry leaned down and smashed the handle of the gun into the man’s forehead, leaving a deep gash.

“Your mouth is gonna get you killed one day.” he whispered.

“Oh yeah? Not today though, huh? Cause you don't have the balls to pull the trigger.” the man laughed, his forehead bleeding and his teeth covered in blood from Harry's punches.

Harry smiled and shook his head. “I do, I’d just rather see you suffer first.” he stood up, kicking the man in the ribs again and watching him curl up in pain. “Daddy can we take him home to the playroom?” he asked, referring to the room that was downstairs.

J laughed and nodded, coming behind Harry to grip his waist, purring into his ear. “Of course, kitten. Frost, Razor!” he called, and two henchmen came forward. “Take Alexander to the play room. Make sure to tie him up good and keep guard in case he tries to escape.” he hummed, turning Harry around. “I’ve got something special planned for you before we go home and have our fun with him.”

\-----

Harry blindly followed J into the run down building he was brought to, looking around as J turned on the switch and the sound of electrical buzzing swarmed the air. Soon, however, flickering lights appeared and only partly illuminated the pathway.

Harry didn't say a word, simply following J up the many, _many_ metal stairs, looking around. It seemed to be an old warehouse or factory or something, but it smelled terrible, and it was slightly humid, even.

“Where are we?” Harry finally asked as they reached the top of the stairs, onto an expansive ledge. Harry walked to the edge of it, looking down at what J was looking at.

“This is where I was born.” the man spoke, his voice eerily relaxed and even somewhat sentimental. His blue eyes were trained on the nine bubbling pools below them, the greenish yellow liquid steaming up and creating an almost unbearable stench.

Harry looked down at the pools before back at J. “You were born in a chemical plant?” he asked, furrowing his brows. That couldn't be good for a baby.

“Mm.” J turned and walked away from the ledge, cracking his knuckles, giving no further response to Harry's curiosity. “Question.” his voice went back to its usual husky creepiness.

“Yes Daddy?” Harry turned his head away from the acid below, looking at the man. His green hair seemed darker from the terrible lighting, and his skin had a yellow tint from the reflection of the acid pools.

“Would you die for me?” The Joker asked, looking at Harry expectantly.

“Yes.” Harry said without hesitation.

The man didn't seemed satisfied by that, though. “No… no that’s too easy. Would you…” he looked down at the pools, seeming to get lost in them before he looked back up to Harry. “Would you live, for me?” he asked, pursing his blood red lips as he waited for a response.

“Yes,” Harry whispered, his voice slightly less confident as before, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe because he didn't know what J was thinking.

“Careful,” the man held a pale finger up, moving towards the boy. “Do not say this oath... _thoughtlessly_.” Harry just stood there, his eyes locked on the man as he placed a tattooed hand over Harry’s lips. “Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes _power_.” He whispered, his blue eyes glinting with mischief as he moved his hands, dragging his pointer finger down Harry’s lip and tugging it down. “Do you want this?” he repeated.

Harry looked at the man in front of him, nodding a few times before he spoke. “I do.” he said, his voice louder and stronger this time.

"Say it. _Say_ it. Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty..." the man whispered and Harry finally caught on.

"Please?" he finished and smiled slightly when he saw J grin. "I do, Daddy." he nodded again. 

“Then you know what to do.” the man stepped back, his eyes not leaving Harry’s as the boy looked over the ledge at the pools of acid.

_Am I going to die?_ He stared down at the bubbles in the liquid. _Probably. But I’d die for him. And what if I live?_ He smiled slightly at that thought. _Then I’ll be with him forever. Either way… It’s for him. It’s always for him._

Harry let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, looking back at J who just stood there, hands resting on his cane, his eyes locked onto Harry’s. He nodded, and Harry turned to the man, his heels hanging off the edge of the platform.

_All for him._

He closed his eyes, letting his weight pull him down. It was a far fall, and it seemed to go in slow motion. His hair was blowing from the fall, his breath being forced down farther into his lungs, his eyes forced shut.

But it was all for him.

He hit the surface of the liquid, and he was numb for moments before his full body was immersed. His skin was burning, his eyes felt on fire, he couldn't see, he opened his mouth to scream but the thick liquid filled his lungs.

_I’m dying._ Harry’s body was paralysed, though his mind was racing, panicking. _I’ll never see J again. I’m dying. I can't breathe. It hurts. My skin is boiling off. I’m dying. I’m dying._

_I’m dying._

_I’m dying for him, but I’m dying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading again and please don't forgot to comment your thoughts! I love hearing your feedback :) ♡


	8. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a kinda short chapter but I've had a lot of family drama so hopefully you guys like it!! PS. There's a semi-short smut scene if that makes anyone happy. Thank you for reading! xoxo

_Am I dead?_

_I must be. I can't feel anything. My skin is numb. My vision is gone. I’ve definitely run out of oxygen. I’m dead._

Harry’s body was slowly sinking farther and farther down into the acid, but he wasn't in pain anymore. In fact, he felt better than before.

He’d shown J that he would do anything for him. He’d die for the man. He’d live through the pain of life for him. He’d do whatever the man asked, whenever he asked.

_For him_.

Harry’s body was slowly going limp as J stood over the ledge, watching the boy sink deeper in. Finally. _Finally_ he’d gotten rid of him.

The boy who made him feel things. Not love, no, J didn't love people. J didn't even like anyone besides himself. But he cared about the boy, and that made him more angry than he’d ever been.

He had more important things to do than care about Harry. Harry only ever got in his way, only tried to soften him. With his constant ‘I love you Daddy’ and ‘I’m so lucky to be yours.’ It angered J more than words could describe. It made his blood boil beneath his skin, his fists clench tight enough to break his fingers, his vision turning red and blurry.

J never loved the boy. He’d never told the boy he loved him, and for good reason. He wouldn't lie about it. Harry didn't even need him to say it. He’d treated the boy the way he felt and the boy was too fazed by his infatuation to even question it. For that, J was thankful. He’d gotten what he needed out of the boy, a boost to his ego and some good head. Now, Harry was disposable, gone.

“Good riddance.” he muttered as he turned around, heading toward the stairs. He reached the stairs and grabbed onto the railing, looking at the long walk down.

But there it was again, that terrible pain in his chest that he felt, the one that’d made him hate the curly haired lad in the first place.

He cared and he regretted letting the boy plummet into the acid to his death.

J clenched his jaw and turned around, growling with rage as he ripped off his coat and threw it to the floor of the ledge, and before he could stop himself he dove down to retrieve the boy’s body.

He hated Harry. He hated the boy making him into anything other than a sadistic killer. He despised him, even. He despised him, but he cared.

His eyes remained shut as he swam deeper, grabbing onto Harry’s waist and yanking him up, swimming blindly up to the surface of the acid. He opened his eyes, holding the debilitated boy in his arms and smacking his face lightly.

“Come on,” he growled, smacking Harry’s face harder and watching the liquid pour from the boy’s open mouth. “No, no, come back.” he whispered, brushing the boy’s soaked curls back and leaning down, pressing his lips to the boy’s and blowing all the air he had in his lungs.

Nothing.

“Harry!” He yelled, pushing on the boy’s chest and blowing into his mouth again, the force of his pushes making acid pour out of his mouth. “ **Harry**!” he yelled angrily, but the boy’s body was slumped against him. “Harry.” he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against his now almost purple lips.

_I’m numb. I can't move. Am I at the bottom of the pool now? Probably. Everything is black. But why do I feel like I’m breathing again?_

_Did J come to get me?_

_I still can't see, but those are definitely his lips against mine. Why am I not moving? Why is he yelling at me?_

_Kiss him back! Let him know you're okay!_

“Kitten.” J growled.

_Daddy_.

It took all of his strength, but after a few moments Harry spluttered up the acid from the back of his throat and his hand came up to grip the back of J’s neck.

Harry’s eyes were the next to open, and he saw J, looking the same as before only now covered in the acid, and a wicked grin spread across his cherry lips.

Without a word, J kissed his purple tinged lips, Harry wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and kissing back with all the strength he had in him.

It was short lived, though, because J pulled back and laughed maniacally, and Harry giggled at how happy the man was.

“You’re mine.” the man cackled, his nails digging into Harry’s waist. “All mine.”

_His._

_All his_.

Harry smiled and pressed his face into the man’s chest, closing his eyes as he felt the man pulling him towards the side of the pool towards the little ladder.

\-----

“Nothing feels real anymore.” Harry whispered as he looked into the mirror of his and J’s home. He was still getting used to his appearance, his skin now bleached white like J’s, his hair half navy blue and half maroon, like the shirt J had been wearing when he had gone in.

“Nothing is real. That’s what’s so fun.” the man grinned and looked at Harry through the mirror, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You can do whatever you want, just like me. No rules.” he held his arms out. “The world is your playground, kitten.”

Harry’s eyes grazed over his pale skin again, before raising his fingers up to his lips, which were still a sickly purple colour, making him look like a corpse in a sense.

“Mine?” He asked, looking at J’s reflection.

“Ours.” J corrected him, standing up and walking towards Harry, making him turn around. “You and I are free to do whatever we please.”

Harry smiled widely and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck, having to stand on his tippy toes to reach him comfortably.

_He’s shown me things I could have never dreamed of. He’s made me into a new person, a self assured, a strong, confident, chaotic and lively person._

“I love you, Daddy.” he whispered and pressed his lips to J’s, and he hardly even noticed that the man never said it back. He just dropped his hand to unbutton the bottom few buttons of the man’s shirt, whimpering against his lips as he pushed the fabric off the man, running his pale fingers over J’s strong chest.

His skin was as white as J’s. He was slowly becoming more and more like the man, and there was no greater feeling to Harry.

Harry purred as he placed appreciative kisses across the man’s chest, tracing the smile on his lower stomach with his finger tips.

“You're so gorgeous.” Harry whispered as he carefully got down on his knees, fumbling clumsily with the man’s belt before he unhooked it, pulling down his pants and mouthing at him teasingly through his boxers. He let out a slow, hot breath right against the fabric and he giggled when he saw the man’s cock beginning to fill out.

“Harry, don't you fucking tease me.” the man warned, gritting his teeth as the boy tugged down his boxers, slowly stroking his thick cock, coaxing it to get harder as he licked a slow stripe up the underside.

“Never, Daddy. I’d never tease you.” he smiled innocently up at the man as he took the swollen head between his lips, purring against the length as he took it further into his mouth. J grunted and gripped some of Harry’s curls on the back of his head, holding his head still as he began to fuck the boy’s mouth, wasting no time.

“You’re just a little cockslut, aren't you?” he growled, watching Harry gag and close his eyes, trying to accommodate his length in his throat. He made slight gagging and slurping noises, his eyes beginning to prick with tears. This only spurred J on. “Always taking me in any way you can get me, aren't you?”

Harry nodded and gagged slightly, looking up at J with tears in his eyes. His throat burned so good, his vision blurred, his mind clouded with lust and a constant mantra of _J J J J J J J J J J_.

J smirked and pushed the boy back, making his cock slip from between his lips.

Before Harry could let out a whine of disapproval, J was reaching down and gripping him by the throat, moving him towards the bed. Harry whined but followed him, looking up at him while he was manhandled to lay down on the sheets. “I think you’re ready to take me, don't you, kitten?”

Harry whined and nodded frantically, watching the man grip onto his jeans and tank them down his legs, taking his panties along with them. J was so rough, he did whatever he wanted to him; Harry adored it. He loved being powerless to the gorgeous man in front of him, his lipstick smudged across his mouth and a bit down his chin, his pale skin shining with a thin layer of sweat, his gorgeous, toned chest rising and falling with lust.

As if on instinct, Harry lifted his legs up and pressed them to his chest, bracing himself for what was to come. It would hurt, but it would be so worth it. He’d finally be close to the man, closer than he’d ever been before. Sure, he’d given the man countless blowjobs since being with him but one thing they’d never got around to doing was having sex, and Harry was done waiting.

J grabbed a packed of lube, putting a generous layer over his cock before he dropped down over top of the boy, one hand wrapped around the boy’s neck as he was rubbing the head slowly against Harry’s hole.

“Now I’m really going to destroy you.” he whispered, his voice so raw and guttural that Harry honestly could've cum right on the spot. He gripped the sheets in preparation, making sure to steady his breathing due to the man’s hand pressing against his windpipe, nodding and biting his lip harshly as he could feel the undeniable pressure. “I’m going to ravish you, destroy every ounce of innocence left inside of you. The only thing you’re going to be able to focus on is me, the feeling of my cock driving into you, the feeling of my hands wrapped around your throat.”

Harry whimpered and arched his back slightly, feeling the head breach his hole and his eyes fluttered closed. _God, there it is_. It was already too hot in the room, the air too thick to breathe, J’s touch too hot on his skin. But he was going slow, too slow, and Harry wasn't having it. The waiting game was more painful than any unprepped sex he could've ever had.

“Ruin me.” he croaked out and watched as J squeezed his throat harder, pushing his cock in all the way and forcing the air out of his lungs. His eyes rolled back in his head and he gasped for breath, his hands coming up to grip J’s arm, struggling to fill his lungs again. “G-god.” he spluttered, the only thing he could feel was J’s hips smacking into his ass.

“You’re always pushing your own limits, kitten. Daddy loves that.” he laughed, watching the boy’s mouth open to struggle to take another breath. “I also love how even when you’re struggling to stay conscious your cock is still getting harder. Do you like this, you little slut?”

Harry nodded again sporadically, moaning as the man sped his thrusts.

“So g-goo-ood.” Harry strangled out, gasping for breath as the man let go of his neck, only to be delivered a rough smack to his face. He should've cried out in pain, his skin should've stung, but instead it only released a wave of pleasure through his body. 

“What do you say?” the man hissed above him, angling himself in a way that pushed him in deeper, making Harry’s body feel like crumbling beneath him.

“Thank you Daddy.” he whimpered, clenching his teeth together when J’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Fuck.”

He could hear J laugh above him before the man leaned up, wrapping Harry’s legs around his waist and digging his nails into his hips while he fucked him. Fast and deep, the only sounds filling the air being his grunts and Harry’s soft cries of pleasure each time his prostate was hit.

It hurt so good. His ass was raw from J’s hips smacking into it, his hips feeling like J was going to draw blood at any moment. His whole body felt on fire, his lungs were burning, and yet the familiar sensation was coiling in his lower stomach.

“D-daddy.” Harry whined out, opening his weary eyes to see the man’s lips slightly parted, letting out barely audible moans as he smacked his ass. “So good, daddy, gonna come.” he whispered, reaching for the man but he was overcome with a sense of weakness.

J didn't respond, just smacked his ass again and sped up, and it only took a few more thrusts before he was ripping Harry’s orgasm from him.

The curly haired lad let out a strangled moan, shooting white ribbons onto his milky skin, his eyes drooping. _J. J. J. J. J. J. J. J._

Harry could hardly hear or feel J at this point, his eyes only opened into little slits and his breathing laboured, everything feeling fuzzy.

He was just laid pliant with a small, distant smile on his lips and soft whimpers escaping them with each other’s hurried thrusts. His fingers curled around the bed sheets weakly and his back arched slightly as the man pressed his hips against Harry’s for the last time, releasing into him and moaning.

_All for him. Always making him happy, always making him feel good._

“Oh, such a good little kitten.” he whimpered as he felt the man pull out, watching him with half shut eyes, his chest still rising and falling.

_This is my home. He is my home. Always, for him._

\-----

“Okay baby, here’s the plans.” J wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist from behind, who was only wearing some panties and one of J’s oversized button ups.

Harry nodded, looking down at the meticulous outline in front of him on the man’s desk. It was rather ironic, being that the man was a serial killer, one would expect him to be messy and unprepared, but much to Harry’s liking, Mister J was compulsively neat. He had every detail written out, sometimes even drawn, the house was always clean, his weapons always organised and in immaculate condition.

“Now really it's simple. We’re gonna go to the bank, you’re going to go in first and get everyone corralled into the centre of the room. Don't be shy with your gun, either. Put some fear into them, they listen better then. Plus it's fun.” he chuckled and Harry smiled, feeling the man rest his chin on his shoulder. “Then, you're going to get the number to the safe, and my men are going to come in and start bagging it up and loading it into the van. I’m going to be on the roof, Batsy is going to come in to stop you. Fight him off, just for thirty seconds or so, then I’m going to blow a hole in the roof and come in. That way he won't be expecting me, and I’ll get to beat the shit out of the little twerp.”

Harry looked at the papers in front of him, repeating the Joker's words in his head a few times. 

“Easy peasy.” he sing-songed and laughed as J spun him around, kissing his lips roughly.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your crazy side, kitten?” he grinned and Harry wrapped his arms around his neck, smiling fondly.

“It’s all thanks to you, daddy. You’re a true artist.” he purred.


	9. VIII

The amount of training and preparation J put Harry through was rather _extra_ as Harry would put it, but even though it tired him out, it made him happy. Seeing the way J smiled and laughed when he learned to hit the centre of the target with the biggest assault rifle he owned made him feel like he was fulfilling his purpose.

“Alright kitten, it’s time to kick it up a notch. Moving targets.” J stood up from his seat and walked over to the lever on the wall, grinning ominously at him.

Harry pouted. “Help me?”

“No.” the man shook his head. “Learn yourself, I won't be there to help you aim when you gotta shoot police down. You can't grow dependent on me.” he pulled the lever and the sounds of machines starting up filled the air before the targets slowly began moving. “Now shoot.”

Harry huffed and raised the rifle up, aiming at the plastic man’s head and shooting, but groaning disheartenedly as the bullet rushed past the man’s head and into the wall behind him.

“Daddy I can't do it!”

“You took one damn shot, Harry!” the man threw his hands up in the air, stomping over to him and yanking the rifle out of his hands. “Gimme the damn thing. Now shut up and watch.” he snarled as he glared at Harry.

The smaller lad crossed his arms and his face screwed up as he tried to hold back the urge to cry. J hated when he cried, he would always get even more angry and have to walk outside and throw some trash cans around the yard before he’d come back. He knew how much J hated that he still had feelings, regardless of if he was insane or not. He still didn't like disappointing the man, and the more the man yelled, the more discouraged he got.

It’d been days of relentless training, no breaks and no ‘I’m proud of you.’ Just one slap on the ass and a ‘that’s my boy.’

But a slap on the ass wasn't cutting it.

“I don't want to do it.” Harry mumbled and watched the man pause in his movements, lowering the rifle and turning towards him.

His expression was unreadable. “You don't want to do it?” he set the gun down on the table in front of him and turned his full body towards Harry. “ **You don't want to do it?** ” he bellowed.

“How do you expect me to shoot a fucking moving target if you hand me a weapon I’ve never used before and don't give me directions?” Harry yelled back and before he could even process the words tumbling from his lips he was thrown across the room, the feeling of J’s open palm being imprinted on half of his face.

“It’s a simple fucking request.” the man spat as Harry gripped his cheek, sitting up with tears brimming his eyes. “You’re just an incompetent little twerp.”

Harry’s lips wobbled and he pressed them together, his head beginning to pound from smacking against the pavement. _All I asked was for him to help me._

“But you’re going to do it.” the man ran his fingers through his electric green hair, turning towards the targets. “You’re going to fucking do it, Harry. It’s not a choice!”

Harry bowed his head down and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I hate you.” he whispered to himself, too quiet for the man to hear, especially since he was muttering curse words to himself while he reloaded the gun.

_No I don't. I love him._

“I hate you.” he spoke louder, sniffling as he stood up and looked the man who still wasn't looking at him. “I hate you! I hate you! I fucking hate you! You don't appreciate a thing I do for you, you self centred prick!” he yelled, tears slipping from his eyes. “I wait on you hand and foot, I kill people for you, and you just toss me around like some rag doll!”

Joker had stopped what he was doing, his strong hands gripping the edge of the table, doing his best to stay quiet. “Shut up.”

“Don't tell me to shut up! I’m tired of doing what you say and getting no fucking thank you, or any sense of gratitude shown to me!” Harry’s white cheeks were red and burning, his whole body trembling. He was quite literally asking to be punched unconscious by screaming at the man like this, but he couldn't help it.

Weeks upon weeks of serving the man like the king he saw him as, and he was only rewarded with sex and gifts. Never with emotion or sentiment.

That was the part of Quinzel that still lived in him.

He’d kill for J. He’d live through the misery of life, he’d die the slowest and most painful death for him.

But he still wanted love. Why wasn't he getting love?

_Why don't I deserve love?_

“I said shut up, Harry.” He repeated, holding a hand up, turning his head slightly so Harry could see his jaw clenched.

Harry’s eyes widened. Does he not understand a word of English? “Don't you get it! You must be brain dead or something! I will shut up when I get some **fucking respect**!” he screamed the last word so loud he could hear it echo in the room.

“You want some fucking respect?” The man whipped around at those words, taking one large stride to reach the boy before he grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall. “ **Where was the fucking respect when my brains were being scrambled with thousands of volts of electricity?** ”

Harry’s hands reached up and grabbed at J’s hand which was wrapped firmly around his throat, steadily cutting off his air supply. “I never-” he choked as J’s grip tightened.

“But you didn't stop it, did you?” he hissed and looked Harry dead in the eyes. “You may have talked to me as an equal but you’d leave at the end of the day and I’d be tossed into this black hole of rage and confusion, doped up on drugs and tossed into a cell to rot away. While you went home to sip on some tea and think about what information you wanted to get from me the next day.”

Harry’s eyes filled with tears again.

_It’s my fault. It’s all my fault he’s so cold to me. He thinks I didn't care about him._

Harry’s heart broke at that thought, and he reached a shaky hand out to pet over J’s sweaty cheek. The man’s grip loosened on his throat and he took a careful breath as he brushed his neon green hair back.

“I do care about you, Daddy.” he whispered and watched J’s brows, or lack thereof, furrow. “Since the day I laid eyes on you. My handsome man.” he sniffled and traced his pointer finger over the man’s lips. “And my adoration only grows with each passing day. You need love, and I’m here to give it to you. Happily. Unconditionally.”

J’s teeth clenched but he let go of Harry’s throat, making the smaller boy smile and reach up to hug him. His cheek still stung and his throat was now sore, but he burrowed his face in the man’s neck.

_Who am I kidding? I could never hate him. He’s a douchebag, but he’s my douchebag._

Harry smiled as the man didn't push him away like he usually did.

“Just get off me and let me teach you how to hit a moving target.” J’s voice was still rough as usual, but he wasn’t loud, and that made Harry’s heart swell even more. He knew he wasn't going to admit it, but Harry’s speech had calmed him down.

“I love ya Mister J.” he kissed the Joker’s lips roughly with a loud ‘muah!’ before he giggled and walked to the table, picking up the rifle.

_My handsome douchebag._

\-----

After their little argument, Joker had taught Harry how to shoot moving targets with the most precision Harry had ever seen. He even amazed himself at being able to shoot with pretty great accuracy. Of course, not as good as Joker’s, but good enough.

It may have even been slightly arousing seeing the man shoot so effortlessly, but J wasn't about to waste any more training time, so Harry wouldn't bother.

“All done for today, Daddy? I think this kitty needs a bath.” he wiped his forehead on his sleeve, jutting out his lower lip.

“Then go take one. I’ll be in my office if you need me, pumpkin.” the man turned and kissed his pout. “Turn that frown upside down before I do it for you.”

Harry giggled at the empty threat and twirled one of the navy blue curls around his finger. “You’re such a kidder, Daddy.” he playfully swayed his hips as he walked to the stairs leading up to the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah, wear something nice when you get out, I got a little surprise for all your hard work.” J called after him, still packing away all of his weapons neatly.

_Neat freak. Not what you’d expect of a psychopath._

“A surprise for me?” Harry’s eyes lit up, bouncing up onto his tippy toes. “Really?”

“Yes, Harry, now go!” the man grinned and waved him off. “Come on, you got just enough time for a bath, spend any longer down here gushing over me you’re gonna have to go smellin’ like BO.”

Harry scrunched his nose up, but nonetheless his smile remained. “My, am I lucky or what?” he squealed as he turned around and ran up the stairs to start his bath.

He still sometimes got lost in the luxurious, spacious home. The rooms were huge, doors everywhere, hallways mixing together as if to form a maze or something. Harry had to use his memory every time he wanted to get to his and J’s room, though they were on the second floor so he didn't always find it an easy task.

Once he reached his all too familiar room, he immediately dropped his pants, slipping off his shirt and rushing to the bathroom.

_Where is Mister J taking me?_

He seemed to have forgotten all about the argument they’d had just an hour before, but it was always like that, the two psychopaths would go at each other's throats and make up simply by making out and forgetting about it.

Most would call it dysfunctional, chaotic and even a lethally toxic relationship. But for Harry it was a dream come true.

He always said, Mister J may be an asshole sometimes but he’s never boring; that’s for sure.

\-----

A quick shower later and Harry stood in front of the bathroom mirror, spitting out the toothpaste in his mouth and wiping his mouth with his towel. Light purple bruised stood out against his pale skin on his neck, and he gently ran his fingers over it.

“Would’ve preferred these to have been hickeys but oh well.” he shrugged and brushed through his hair quickly, running to the room to get dressed.

“You're not dressed yet? Christ Harry, it’s been nearly forty five minutes!” The green haired man scolded as he fixed his tie.

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Don't yell at me because I wash more than just my armpits and ballsack.” he muttered as he pulled on some panties along with his skinny jeans and tight fitting shirt, along with a bomber jacket.

The man didn't respond, but simply growled and Harry smiled to himself.

“So where are we going, Daddy?” he asked, pulling on some combat boots and tucking his purple and blue blade into the waistband of his pants. He sat up straight and looked at his boyfriend who was putting the safety on his pistols and tucking them into their holsters before tugging on his silver blazer.

“To eat,” he looked in the mirror as he slipped on a ‘J’ shaped diamond ring. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm!” Harry nodded and skipped over to J, looking at his reflection and smiling. “You look just perfect, Mister J.” he playfully leaned up and nibbled the man’s earlobe. “The handsomest man in all of Gotham City.”

The taller man chuckled and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, moving his head back and kissing his lips. “Enough with the flattery, pumpkin, let’s get going.”

\-----

The dinner was the Joker’s way of apologising, so to speak. He would never say the words ‘I’m sorry’ out loud because well, he wasn't sorry. But he wanted Harry to be one hundred percent happy and devoted to him again.

Not that he ever wasn't. There wasn't a thing J could do to make Harry fall out of love with him.

“This was nice.” Harry smiled as he finished eating his ice cream, popping the cherry into his mouth and biting it off the stem. He admired his boyfriend as he chewed. His pale skin illuminated by just the few candles in the centre of the table, the dark black around his eyes making his eyes look even more sunken in.

_My man is a looker._

Joker just grinned and took a sip of his wine, craning his neck before getting out his wallet. “Quit your staring at me.”

“Why, Daddy?” Harry giggled, running his foot up the man’s leg. “Am I makin’ you self conscious?” he pouted playfully.

Joker froze slightly as Harry’s foot reached his crotch. “No. I’m trying to figure out the bill and you're distracting me. Now stop.”

Harry’s brows furrowed but the man was quick to fix it.

“No, no, pumpkin don't get mad. I’m just trying to do the maths, when I’m done then we can have some fun, yes?” he offered, watching Harry’s frown turn back into his face-splitting grin. “Good.”

\-----

Harry awoke the next day with a whine, the sunlight pouring in relentlessly through the open blinds. It was only six in the morning, why the hell was he up so early?

He threw the covers off himself and gasped as the sudden breeze hit him. Naked?

_What even happened last night?_

_Oh right, after we came home from dinner Daddy tied me to the bed and punished me for teasing him in public. Mental note to do that more often._

He brushed his fingers through his navy and maroon curls, grabbing J’s t-shirt off the floor and throwing it on himself before pulling on some boxers. He stumbled to the bathroom, only slightly sore from the rough fucking, and grabbed his toothbrush. Just as he was putting toothpaste on the bristles, the bedroom door opened and his boyfriend ever so dreamily walked in, only wearing boxers, offering his pale, toned torso for Harry to look at.

He was on the phone, one hand gripping the phone and his other running through his green hair in a stressed manner.

“You’re really getting on my nerves now, Nygma. Enough with the rhetorical questions! Tell me who it is before I come down there and slit your throat with my fingernails!” he hissed into the phone, sitting on the edge of their bed.

Harry curiously turned off the water and began brushing his teeth, turning to look at the man.

“What do you mean he knows my plans, you nonsensical twit!” he threw one of his hands in the air. “None of my men would go around telling people, especially not him, they know better than that.”

It was silent for a few moments before Harry spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He came out to the bedroom and climbed on the bed, placing his hands on J’s shoulders and gently rubbing them, watching the man’s body stiffen for a moment.

He could hear the indistinct speaking from the receiver of the cell phone, but he didn't bother to eavesdrop as he knew J would tell him anyway.

“I don't have time to sit here all day and talk to you about it, then! Shut up.” he spoke and paused for a moment, presumably to let the man say goodbye, and then tossed the phone back on the bed, letting out a loud, aggravated sigh.

“What is it, Daddy?” Harry asked, leaning down to gently place kisses across the man’s pale, muscular shoulder, over the card tattoo.

“One of my goddamn men blabbed their mouth at the bar about our plan and now the damn Bat knows!” he grumbled and leaned back, flopping onto the bed and Harry pouted, looking down at him.

“Oh, no daddy. That’s no good.” he leaned down and placed kisses across the man’s chest before kissing up to his lips. “Let’s go find out who did it and paint the wall with his brains.”

He looked up at J’s face and saw him grinning, “Good idea kitten.” He stood up and yanked Harry off the bed with him.

\-----

“We’re still doing it?” Harry asked, holding the rifle J had given him in his hands as they walked down the alley towards Gotham City Bank. His green haired boyfriend gave him a weird look as he turned around.

“Of course we are.” he stuffed a grenade into the pocket of his trench coat. “We’ve got an obstacle now. Nothing I can't handle.” he chuckled.

Harry shrugged and tucked the gun into his waistband, watching a small cloud of white appear in front of his cherry red lips each time he exhaled. The tip of his nose was even turning red from how cold the borderline winter air was. His boyfriend didn't seem to feel the chill whatsoever though.

Once they reached the backside of the bank, Harry avoided the puddles and watched as J pulled out a grappling hook. He kissed the curly haired boy roughly on the lips before pointing it up at the roof. “Don't fuck this up.” he said before shooting it, and he was whisked off onto the roof.

_How encouraging._

Harry took a deep breath and nodded to himself.

_Just do it for him. Always for him._

He speed walked to the front door of the bank, feeling the revolver stuck in the waistband of his panties and the blade inside his jacket sleeve. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked around before pushing the large, thick glass doors open.

He didn't bother to disconnect the cameras, since nobody knew he was the Jokers boyfriend.

Yet.

His emerald green eyes scanned over the faces in the room. Middle aged men and women, a few teenagers and even a baby asleep in a stroller.

“No.” he whispered to himself, shaking his head. “I can't kill a child… no.”

Luckily, he was hardly even speaking, so nobody turned around or even acknowledged him. He went to rush out of the front door but just as he did, he received a phone call. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he quickly answered it.

“Hello?”

“Turn your ass around and do what you came to do.” J’s voice hissed, and Harry chewed his lower lip.

“There’s a baby in here.” he whispered. He was crazy, no doubt, and he’d gladly kill everyone else in the bank. But children and animals were two things Harry could never justify killing.

He knew his boyfriend would easily just put a bullet through the baby like he was just another person. “I don't care.”

Harry’s lower lip trembled. “Fine. I’ll kill everyone else but not the baby. And you- leave it unharmed. Please.”

The green haired man groaned into the receiver of the telephone. “Okay, okay, damn it! I won't hurt the thing now would you fucking get on with it?” The line went dead.

He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and shook his head a few times to try and refocus himself before he turned around. He took his gun out of his pants and held it up, turning around. “Everyone in the centre of the room now!” he yelled.

Immediately the air was filled with people’s worried chatter and a few screams of terror, and Harry shot the man at the desk when he picked up the phone to call the police. Then the baby began crying.

“Oh god, oh god,” he whispered to himself, watching everyone scramble to get into the centre of the floor. _Don't fuck this up Harry! The baby is just confused because of the loud noise, he’s not hurt, quit being a wuss._

_“Don't fuck this up.”_

_Don't fuck it up. Just don't. Do what you came here to do, Harry!_

He held up the gun towards the crowd of people, watching them all crouch down in fear, and nodded towards J’s men at the back entrance to start grabbing money from the vaults.

“Everyone stay down unless you want to get shot.” He said, speaking louder to hide the trembling in his voice.

_God please don't let me fuck this up._


	10. IX

“Frost, what do I do!” Harry whimpered, watching J and Batman fight in the centre of the bank, all of the civilians that had been in the store having run out. “He’s hurting Mister J!” he gasped as he saw Batman give J a sharp upper cut punch to the jaw. “Hey!” he went to lunge forward but Frost grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

  
“Are you fucking crazy?” the man said and Harry gave him a ‘what kind of question is that’ look. “Okay, well that-” he turned Harry to look at J being thrown across the room, blood covering his teeth as he laughed. “Not something you want to get in the middle of.”

  
“But Daddy..” Harry whimpered, watching J jump onto the Bat’s back, sinking a knife into his shoulder and cackling maniacally.

  
“Better get out of here now pumpkin!” he yelled towards Harry, blood dripping down his chin. "He's gettin' awful agitated!" he laughed as he was thrown off the Bat's back onto the reception desk. 

  
“That’s our cue to leave, let’s go.” Frost grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him towards the back door.

  
“But we can't leave him!” Harry gasped and tried to pull away, “No!”

  
“Harry!” Frost grabbed the boy by his shoulders, looking into his emerald green eyes with the most intensity he’d ever seen Frost display. “He is in a full out brawl with a super human and getting his ass beat while he’s at it, what makes you think you getting your ass beat is going to help the situation?” he asked, making Harry’s lower lip tremble.

  
“I don't want him to be hurt.”

  
“Little too late for that. Now come on, he wants us out of here, he’s holding the Bat off for now. We have to go.” Frost explained, hearing sirens whirring down the street. “Fuck. Let’s go, we gotta get out of here.” he motioned for J’s men to open the back exit.

  
Harry stole one last blurry glance at his boyfriend who was on his back, Batman’s fist colliding with his jaw over and over again.

  
_My puddin’._

  
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” he sniffles and wiped his nose, standing up and running after Frost as he opened the back doors to the white van. He and J’s men jumped in, slamming the doors shut and speeding off out of the back parking lot.

  
“Is he gonna be okay?” Harry leaned over the seat, looking at Frost in the front of the van. “Can't we send someone to go rescue him?”

  
“Joker doesn't need rescuing, Harry, he’s a big, psychotic, evil man. He’ll be home by dark.” Frost spoke, turning off onto a back road, making Harry clutch onto the seat harder to keep his balance. “Believe me, we did the right thing by leaving. If we would’ve stayed we would've gotten arrested and you and J would've been thrown into Arkham in padded cells in drug induced slumber.”

  
Harry frowned and leaned his chin on the seat, watching the road ahead of them. “You promise he’ll be home?” he asked like a child doubting their parents.

  
“He always is.” Frost chuckled. “He’s got a way of making everyone, who wants to kill him, back off.” the man scratched his scruff and pulled off onto a dimly lit road, half the street lights broken and the road completely clear of cars. “He’ll probably just be bruised up.”

  
Harry furrowed his brows. “I’m gonna kill that stupid Bat for touching him, even if it gets me killed.”

  
Frost glanced at Harry. “Which it will,” he said, making Harry raise his eyebrows. “So don't go doing shit until Joker is home and gives you the okay to go on another mission.”

  
“You think this is my fault?” the curly haired lad asked sullenly, “Think he’s gonna be mad it didn't go as planned?”

  
“What do you mean it’s your fault? You did everything he said.” Frost pulled into the driveway to the Joker’s mansion and Harry took a deep breath as he looked up at it, seeing the large chandeliers through the windows. The warm lighting cascading through the curtains, the sun just starting to set on the horizon behind the estate.

  
Harry shook his head and wiped his eyes instead of responding, feeling the dread already setting in. It had been 15 minutes since he left the Joker’s side and he could already feel his heart begin to ache. It was like the green haired man had taken his oxygen with him and left him with empty space to fill his lungs.

  
_I need him back. I need him back. I need him back._

  
One of J’s men helped Harry out of the back of the van and walked with him up to the front door.

  
“Hey, Quinn, listen.” the man said, his New York accent much thicker than his own. “Don't stress yourself over it. Joker taught you well, and you kicked ass for as long as you could. He’ll be home in no time at all.” he smiled and pat Harry’s back.

  
Harry smiled half-heartedly and stepped inside after uttering a quiet ‘thanks’, kicking off his blood-stained white sneakers and sighing.

  
“I’m gonna go take a bath.” he mumbled to Frost, who was removing his jacket and taking the gun out of his pants.

  
“Alright. Let me know if I can get you anything.” He smiled and Harry nodded, turning to go up the large steps.

  
_Never been in the house without J before. Feels weird. I don't belong somewhere that he’s not. Feels wrong, like I shouldn't go into our room until he’s back._

  
Harry’s lips turned down into a frown as he reached the white and gold door to their bedroom.

  
“I need my puddin’.” he whispered and leaned his head against the door, lazily resting his hand on the door handle. “It’s just not our room if he’s not in it.”

  
Harry sat in silence for a few moments, pressing his red lips together and taking deep breaths through his nose, feeling his eyes burn and his throat tighten.

  
_Hope he’s okay._

  
\-----

  
Harry took a long bath, downing a whole bottle of wine himself, which he’d had Frost bring to him. The alcohol did nothing to soothe him, because how could a drink fill the hole inside of you, the hole left by someone who saved you? The hole left by someone whose side you couldn't stand to leave, and now they weren't here to make the bed feel less lonely?

  
Harry gulped down the last of the wine and set the bottle down on the floor outside of the tub, the bubbles having all dispersed and the water now hardly lukewarm.

  
As if on cue, as if his tear ducts knew he had finished a bottle and was still thinking about his boyfriend, Harry began sobbing. Body racking sobs, his whole body trembling with an undeniable ache.

  
He felt like someone was dangling him over the side of a building by his feet, and all the blood was rushing to his head, and he felt nauseous, choked and broken all at the same time. “Oh…” he whispered to himself as another sob jolted through him, his hands coming up to cover his face.

  
To the average person, having their boyfriend taken to jail for the night would be minorly upsetting, but nothing to sob about. But to Harry, that was his life source. His happiness. He lived and breathed the Joker. The man was his oxygen, the blood in his veins, and he wasn't there; Harry didn't know if he was okay or what he was doing. To him, that was like the house was crumbling down on top of him and he was suffocating under all the rubble.

  
Harry didn't exist without the Joker, and he wouldn't want to anyway.

  
\-----

  
Two days. It had been a whole two days since Harry had to sleep in their bed alone, wake up cold, and have to eat breakfast alone. It had been two days since Harry had last seen his boyfriend, and it felt like his heart was getting progressively more broken with each passing second.

  
“Quinn! Out of bed.” Frost stepped into the room, seeing Harry who was lying on his side in the bed, his eyes only half open, staring at he wall. “Come on, it’s three in the afternoon. Up.” he nudged Harry but received no sort of response. “Harry. Get up.” he pulled the curtains to the balcony open, making Harry groan and cover his eyes.

  
“Go away. I don't want to get up unless he’s here.” he mumbled and shoved his face in the pillow, not caring that he wasn't getting fresh air. Quite frankly, if the Joker wasn't coming back, Harry wouldn't mind suffocating because of it.

  
Frost rolled his brown eyes in annoyance and mouthed an inaudible ‘wow’ to himself before pulling the covers off Harry. “He’s not dead. He’s in Arkham.” he said, watching Harry pull his face off the pillow, taking in a slow breath. “So, I’m gonna need your help to get him out. He’s in Arkham for a week, five days now that we wasted two of them running around like chickens with their heads cut off. We have to think smart and fast. After he’s done with his psychiatric evaluations he’s getting sent to Blackgate, and there’s no chance in hell we can break into there successfully. So, you’re going to get up, take a shower,” he grimaced, “and come to his office to help me plan an escape for him before our time is up.”

  
Harry stared down at his hands, which were clutching his Puddin collar. “I’m coming. Can I have some breakfast, please?” he whispered.

  
“Lunch, more like, but of course. I’ll get started on bacon and eggs.” Frost handed Harry a towel and nodded towards the bedroom. “Hey. Cheer up. We’re getting him back in no time.”

  
Harry looked up at Frost and finally broke out into a smile. Frost knew that’d cheered him up. It was easy as mentioning the man’s name, that's all it took to make Harry happy. He almost thought it was cute, seeing how happy J made Harry.

  
Not that Joker was good to Harry, because well, Frost certainly wouldn't want to date such a narcissistic prick, but seeing the life return to Harry’s eyes when he told him the news almost warmed his heart.

  
Harry was crazy, that was for sure, but he still had his emotions. He still felt sorrow at the thought of losing his boyfriend and he still felt immense, immense love for him too. Frost would be damned if he was ever caught shipping the dysfunctional duo, but he couldn't deny it wasn't the worst thing ever.

  
“Okay.” he whispered as he quickly stood up, throwing his arms around Frost’s shoulders. The man smelled like cologne, something Harry hadn't smelled in a while. He tended to prefer fruity, floral, girly scents. It wasn't the same as J’s cologne, but it smelled like man, and it comforted him in a sense. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.“Thank you.” he whispered. “Just miss him a lot.”

  
The burly man chuckled and nodded, gently patting Harry’s back before pulling away. “Yeah, we all do. Now go clean up you reek of sweat and tequila.”

  
“Eh shut up.” Harry giggled and ran towards the bathroom, making Frost shake his head.

  
“Why the hell do I put up with these crazies?” he whispered to himself as he went downstairs to start cooking breakfast for Harry.

  
\-----

  
“Then, from Arkham they’re putting him in shackles and into a white van to their little helicopter base just 20 miles north of Arkham. Then they're going to chopper him over to Blackgate which is around four hours from here. So what we’re going to do is break him out of Arkham, but, like I’ve learned the hard way, always have a backup plan. In the event that we can't get him out of Arkham, we’re going to follow them in J’s helicopter. Shoot them down, kill everyone in there but J. Then we just bring the crazy bastard home.” Frost spoke, looking at what he and Harry had written on the paper.

  
Harry chewed on his lower lip, green eyes darting over the words scrawled out onto the paper. “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. Normally, he’d jump head first into the situation, but now his very own Mister J was at stake, and there was no way Harry was going to get him in any more trouble than he was already in. “How do we uh,” he pointed to the part where Frost had written down _shoot the plane down_ , “how do we do that without killing Daddy too?”

  
“We shoot the plane, it goes down, rolls a couple times until it finally stops. Everyone will be inside trying to figure out what the fuck just happened, probably.” Frost ran his fingers through his hair, looking at Harry. “We’ll lower the jet down. You and I will jump out, climb into the plane and shoot every last damn person in there except for J. Bring him on our jet, come back home.” he nodded.

  
Harry nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, okay. And you promise that’ll work?”

  
Frost was apprehensive, because he knew if it didn't, Harry would probably stick a knife in his jugular or chop his dick off or some shit. “Uh, yeah, it should.”

  
Harry eyed him suspiciously before hopping off of the desk, shuffling across the floor to the large, intimidating man. “Okay.” he nodded, “I’m in. But, Frosty.” he grabbed the man’s tie and pulled him down so he was level with him. “If anything happens to my Daddy because of your plan, I can guarantee your funeral. I’ll cremate you myself.” he whispered.

  
The look in Harry’s eyes was more terrifying than anything Frost had seen in awhile. He’d watched the Joker skin people alive, but to see it in Harry too, and knowing what the Joker had taught him scared the shit out of him.

  
Gulping, the man nodded and carefully pulled back. “He’ll be fine.”

  
Harry smiled and threw his hands up in the air. “Good!” he giggled and clapped. “I can't wait to see my J again! We’ll break into Arkham tonight. Better work because I’m not so sure about that jet plan of yours.” he shook his head.

  
Frost chuckled and rubbed his chin, nodding. “Yeah well that’s more of a last resort sorta situation.”

  
Harry walked to the door and leaned against it, turning his head to look at Frost. “Well maybe you should think of a uh, _backup_ , backup plan. Y’know. In case something happens to Mista J and I have to start a manhunt that ends in your guts on the pavement.” he smiled at Frost, but he knew there was nothing nice or funny about what he’d said.

  
Oh, Harry was serious. God help anyone who disrespected the queen, but even God can't help anyone who hurts the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of just a filler, the exciting part is coming up. It'd mean a lot to me if you'd comment your thoughts on how this is going so far!! :) Thank you for reading.


	11. X

Harry was going crazy.  _ Crazier _ , actually. He couldn't stand one more second without J. He needed his handsome clown boyfriend with him. He wanted to feel the man’s pale skin against his own, his rough, hurried touch, his teeth cold and harsh against Harry’s milky skin. 

 

“What is taking so long?” Harry whispered to Frost who sat in the front of the van with a headset on. 

 

“Hey, it’s a lot harder to break into the place when you’re not in there to give us the key.” Frost snapped and Harry narrowed his eyes. “We sent Razor in to first check on J and see how he’s doing. He’s gonna tell us if he’s- hold on. Yeah? Go.” he spoke into the headset, pausing for a moment. 

 

“What? What’s going on?” Harry asked, leaning forward worriedly, his brows knitting together. “Frost!” he smacked the man’s leg as the man looked forward. 

 

“Shit! Well don't just fucking stand there, run! Now they know we’re coming for him, damnit! Razor,” Frost sighed and leaned his head forward on the steering wheel. “We’re gonna fucking have to do my backup plan.”

 

Harry’s grip on his seat tightened, his face flushing with anger. “I want to see my boyfriend  _ now. _ ” he gritted out, reaching for the door handle, but Frost reached over quickly and grabbed his hands. “Hey- get off me! You’re just his bitch, I’m his boyfriend, I’m in charge!”

 

“Not when you've got no fucking idea how to break in.” Frost said, keeping his voice calm to try and relax Harry. The boy was extra on edge lately, pulling a blade on Frost that morning for making him scrambled eggs instead of poached. “Harry, look at me. Quinn.” he grabbed the boy's face. “You go in there, they're going to tranquillise you, throw you into a straitjacket and put you in a padded cell. For god knows how long.” the man spoke. 

 

Harry hesitated for a moment. 

 

_ But I want him out of there. I want my boyfriend.  _

 

“Listen, Harry, you should know.” Frost reasoned with the lad, watching him sink back into his seat and run his fingers through his navy blue maroon hair. “You  _ worked _ there. You saw what they did to J.”

 

Harry furrowed his brows at that. “All the more reason to go get him, then! I don't want him going through that!”

 

As Harry spoke that, Razor jumped into the back of the van, banging his fist on the wall as if to tell Frost to  _ drive.  _ Frost took off speeding down the road, gripping onto the steering wheel with determination. 

 

“Arkham is no problem for J. You’ve seen how much he loves fucked up situations! A looney bin is a walk in the park to him.” he waved one of his hands in the air, watching Harry cross his arms over his chest and thrust out his lower lip in defiance. “We’re getting him out. Trust me. I’ve spent the last five years of my life with that clown, we always get him out. It’s quite literally my job.” 

 

Harry let out a slow breath and rolled his eyes, turning away. “When do we get him back?” he inquired, swallowing heavily. He’d gotten himself so worked up over the thought of having the Joker back at home that he didn’t even think about how he’d react if they didn’t get him out like planned. He didn’t anticipate having to go home without his boyfriend and sleep in his bed alone. It was like the first day without him all over again. 

 

“They should be choppering him over to Blackgate in about two days.” Frost looked over at Harry’s face, seeing the distraught look in his face. “Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll get him back. In one piece. You just have to stay a bit more patient and don’t go insane over it because getting yourself into Arkham is just going to be more time away from J. You don’t want that, do you?”

 

“Of course not. I’ll be good. Promise.” he sighed and sat up a bit. 

 

_ On the bright side, with every second that’s passing, I’m getting closer and closer to being reunited with Daddy. I just have to stay optimistic! Like Mister J always says, turn that frown upside down.  _

 

Harry smiled widely at that thought, feeling his heart swell in his chest at the man’s words echoing in his head. “What?” Frost asked, looking over him. “Harry,” he said in a warning voice, “what the hell is that look for? Don’t you be getting any ideas.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to wipe the inevitable grin from his purple tinged lips. “I’m not getting any ideas. I’m just thinking about him.” he couldn’t help but giggle, hiding his blushed cheeks in his hands like a child who just had their first kiss. 

 

The only response he received was a soft chuckle from Frost as he pulled into the driveway of J’s mansion. 

 

_ I’m getting him back. Just gotta hold on a little while longer. But it’s for him, so it’s worth it. Mr. J is worth anything it takes.  _

 

\-----

 

Harry awoke the next day with a soft frown on his lips before he realised something. J was getting taken to Blackgate tomorrow, which meant by afternoon the next day, he’d be reunited with his lifeline. He’d be reunited with the person who made him smile despite everything going wrong, the most amazing man Harry could ever imagine. And he was getting him  _ back.  _

 

At that thought, Harry threw the covers off himself and stood up, stretching his arms out and letting out a soft whine as his muscles stretched. The only fabric covering is milky white skin was a pair of lavender silk panties and one of J’s blazers that Harry had laid down with, inhaling the scent until it soothed him to sleep. 

  
There was something therapeutic about J’s scent, like whiskey and sweat and blood, something that filled Harry’s senses and just melted his worries away. He knew J would always protect him, he was practically invincible when the man was around, and having his scent while he wasn’t there was probably the only reason he hadn’t had a  _ total  _ meltdown. 

 

Harry pulled the blazer off and sniffed it once more, sighing quietly in absolute admiration before he tossed the blazer on the bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. After quickly dressing and brushing through his unruly curls, he bounded down the large staircase and soon after spotted Frost making breakfast. 

 

“Tomorrow’s the big day!” he squealed excitedly, leaning over the counter and looking at the man with elation etched onto every inch of his face. “The day we get Mister J back! Oh, Frost, can you just imagine how lonely he’s been and then tomorrow we’re bringin’ him home to where he’s loved and cherished?” he asked, his green eyes watching the man scramble the eggs while he rambled on. 

 

“Sounds like a good deal.” Frost replied monotonously, compared to Harry. It wasn’t that the man didn’t care, because of course he did, that was his boss, the man that he protected with his own life because if anything bad were to happen to J, it was  _ his  _ head on a stick, even if there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it. So, Frost was happy, but not  _ nearly  _ as happy or enthusiastic as Harry was. He didn’t think anyone could be as excited as Harry. Harry was notorious for being overly enthusiastic and passionate about things, needless to say, especially about the Joker. 

 

Harry let out another little squeak and clapped his hands together. “We’ll have to make him a nice welcome home party! Lots of booze, ‘cause you know Mister J likes his whiskey. And a cake!” Harry rambled as Frost prepared the boy’s breakfast, setting it down in front of him and only half-paying attention. He nodded every once in a while, but he knew there was really nothing good that would come out of throwing a party. J wasn’t a party person. He wasn’t a  _ social  _ person at that, which was why after many years of working for him, being his best worker, Frost still didn’t even know the man’s real name, birthday or age. 

 

But he wouldn’t interrupt Harry, because he knew how much getting J back meant to him. He knew it was like the boy was getting a present on Christmas morning, and if he were to interrupt him, he’d probably get a bullet in his shoulder. 

Sometimes Frost forgot that Harry was just as crazy as his boyfriend. 

 

\-----

 

After breakfast, Harry had headed downstairs to get in some extra shooting practice. 

 

_ You’ll never shoot as good as me, but it’s still smart to keep practicing anyway. You don’t want to let your shooting skills get rusty.  _

 

J had told Harry that during their week of extensive training, and it was currently the only words running through Harry’s mind as he grabbed a box of bullets, loading up his MK-16 and raising it up, aiming it at the targets. He had practiced on all sorts of weapons already, handguns, assault rifles, semi-automatic rifles, glocks, and even J’s beloved gold-plated AK-47. 

 

The only sound that filled the air was gunshots, and then when Harry had to reload, just the noises of the bullets being clicked into place and then more gunshots. He was sure J’s men were upstairs probably just plugging their ears and waiting for the noise to stop, because it  _ had  _ been hours and they were probably tired of it. He’d lost track of time, but he doubted it was  _ that  _ late, so he didn’t bother to stop and check. 

 

Harry dropped down the machine gun onto the table, wiping the sweat from his forehead and looking at the empty bullet boxes. Of course, the amount he’d used hadn’t even put a dent into J’s stash of weaponry, but he still shocked himself with how much time and bullets he’d just put into his day. 

 

“You done yet?” Harry heard from the staircase and he turned around, seeing Frost who had a beer bottle in his hand. “It’s past dinner, you know that right? And we have to be up bright and early tomorrow to get Boss back.” he took a swig of the liquid. “Come on up and have what I made you. I’ll clean up down here.” 

 

Harry nodded and looked back at the targets, which were now falling over with how many bullet holes were in them, and would need to be replaced when J came back. 

 

“Thanks.” He nodded and took the rag that Frost held out to him, wiping his face clean of the sweat and gunpowder, sighing as he trudged up the stairs. 

 

_ Can it just be tomorrow yet? I just want to see him, I want to shoot down that jet, kill every last person in there, and get my J back.  _

 

_ I need him back.  _

 

_ I need him.  _

 

Harry gulped anxiously as he closed his eyes, reminding himself to be patient. This wasn’t about him, what he wanted- it was about getting J back. That was what was most important, it always was. Nothing, and Harry meant  _ nothing  _ was more important than his beautiful Clown Prince. Absolutely nothing in the world meant more to him, nothing in the world was as valuable as the man. 

 

Harry opened his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Anthony?” He asked as he reached the top of the stairs, seeing one of J’s newer henchmen, who seemed to be in his early twenties at the most. He was rather cute, big puppy dog brown eyes and tan skin, a sweet, almost innocent aura to him. Harry found it fun to taunt him, not too horribly of course. “Is there somethin’ on my face?”

 

Anthony shook his head, giving the curly haired boy a polite yet nervous smile. Ever since J had been taken to Arkham, Harry had been taking his role around the house. They even went as far as to jokingly call him “Boss” now, but he knew that title only belonged to his boyfriend, and he  _ was  _ getting him back, so he told them they’d better not get used to calling him that. 

 

“Just making sure you were okay, Quinn. You looked like you were having an existential crisis at the top of the stairs. Didn’t know if I was gonna have to run to catch you before you fell backwards.” he chuckled quietly and Harry smiled. 

 

“I’m just trying to keep myself calm. S’only one more day.” Harry nodded, grabbing the food Frost had put out on the table, pulling the foil from over it and digging his fork into the lasagna. “Who’s been here longer, me or you?” he asked Anthony, who had moved to sit at the bar stool next to the island in the kitchen. 

 

The man placed his rifle onto the table, shrugging. “Me, I believe. Either that or you werent around much when I first showed up.” he gestured to Harry, asking for a beer. “Why do you ask?”

 

Harry grabbed himself and the man a beer, opening them both and taking a slow sip of his before he sat the cold drink down on the marble counter. “I was just curious if you knew what the longest amount of time J’s spent in Arkham was. Cause, if you were here before me, you’d know that stuff. And if he’d been in there longer than this, I’d know I’m not completely failin’ him by leaving him in Arkham for a whole week.”

 

Anthony smiled at Harry before taking a sip of his drink, shaking his head as he swallowed. “You’re not failing him. You’re doing everything you can.” he shrugged, “And I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I doubt seven days is the longest he’s been in there. I think he’s spent a good… month or so in there before.”

 

Harry arched up a brow, chewing his lasagna, swallowing before he began to speak again. “A whole month? Huh. That was before I worked there, then, cause he and I only met like five times before I helped him break out.” he bit his lip, closing his eyes and smiling slightly as he remembered the things him and the man used to do in his office once the straitjacket was off and the guards left. 

 

All the memories, the innocent and the filthy, came rushing to his mind. The first time J had kissed him, making him realise he was slowly falling in love with the clown. The first time he had let the man give him a hickey, a bruise for the world to see, marking him in the best way possible while his hands were restrained by the stupid cloth restraints that Harry absolutely despised. Then,  _ oh god,  _ the memories of when J was too focused on humiliating Harry, fingering him while he was trying to focus on getting the questions answered before their session was over. 

 

_ “J, please,” Harry panted, tossing his head back to rest on the arm of the sofa as J curled three fingers inside of him, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I- fuck, I have to get these reports in or they’re going to start getting suspicious.” _

 

_ “Then start asking questions, doll face. I’m not stopping you,” the man’s pale, slender fingers crooked up towards Harry’s prostate, making him bite into his thumb to stop from letting out a loud yelp of pleasure. “C’mon, kitten.” the man purred, dropping his head down and licking a slow stripe up the underside of Harry’s neglected cock. A soft whimper escaped the psychiatrist’s lips, his head tilting back even further as his back arched slightly at the much welcomed attention.  _

 

_ “I-I-” Harry’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, his body slowly but surely being covered in a thin layer of sweat as J fingered him agonisingly slow, against his own rough and impulsive instinct, just to embarrass the hell out of Harry. It was working for sure.  _

 

_ “C’mon Doc, we haven’t got all day,” Joker chuckled from between Harry’s legs, his warm breath cascading over the base of Harry’s cock and sending shivers down his spine.  _

 

_ “J, please-” Harry whimpered, his breath hitching in his throat again as the man jabbed his finger into the bundle of nerves deep inside of him.  _

 

_ “Please, who?” J roughly curled his fingers inside the boy, causing more discomfort than pain and making Harry wince. He normally had no trouble remembering to call J by his favourite pet name, but his brain was kind of scrambled right now, the only thing he was able to focus on was the slow, steady rhythm of the man’s long fingers diving into his tight heat.  _

 

_ Harry let out a choked moan. “Daddy, please.” he leaned down, taking a fistful of the man’s green hair, knowing that the sharp tug wouldn’t phase the man one bit, in fact he could practically tell the man would get bored if he didn’t get rough with it eventually. J could never do vanilla, it just wasn’t in him, and it didn’t fit his character anyway. Serial killers don’t do vanilla. Psychopathic, narcissistic clowns don’t do vanilla. J always had a kink to incorporate, and it always made Harry plunge into pure ecstasy.  _

 

_ “That’s a good kitten.” the man purred against Harry’s hole, flicking his tongue over the tight rim as he began pumping his two fingers faster, keeping them angled up towards that spot that made Harry whine in pleasure. “Come on, kitten, start asking daddy questions. You don’t get to cum until that paperwork is all filled out.” he grinned up at the curly haired boy who was panting and writhing around in pleasure by now.  _

 

_ “You- fuck, you fucking asshole.” Harry whimpered, making J laugh and thrust his fingers in harder, reaching over to grab the boy’s clipboard and hand it to him.  _

 

_ “Start asking questions, pumpkin. Ten minutes left.” he commanded, slowing his fingers down, watching Harry’s flustered form shake as he held the clipboard, his eyes hazily running over the words on the paper, hardly even processing them as he began to recite them to the man.  _

 

_ “I-is there a history of- shit-” Harry squeezed his eyes shut, going silent for a moment as he tried to hold back his impending climax.  _

 

_ “Is there a history of shit?” The man repeated sarcastically, laughing as he stilled his fingers and sat back slightly. “Well, without a doubt. Is this just my shit we’re talking about or everybody in the history of the world? Because that’s a lot of shit to talk about, and you’ve got nine minutes left.”  _

 

_ “Shut up!” Harry whined and threw the clipboard down, reaching down to grab J’s hair and yank him up towards him. “Just finish me off and I’ll make something up.” he whispered before pressing his lips to the Joker’s a bit harsher than intended, but neither of the man complained as J kissed back, quickening the pace of his fingers and purring into the boy’s mouth as Harry began to grind up against his stomach, getting some much needed attention for his cock.  _

 

_ “That’s it, kitten,” J pulled back from the kiss, watching Harry pant and close his eyes, practically gasping for breath and bucking his hips up, begging for his high. He could feel the boy’s walls tighten around his digits, and he growled slightly. “Remember not to come until I say so, yeah?” _

 

_ Harry clutched onto the back of the man’s neck, his curls sticking to his forehead with sweat. “Please, Daddy, I can’t hold it.” he shook his head, looking up into the clown’s icy blue stare, his lower stomach feeling like it was about to burst.  _

 

_ “You never finished those questions,” the man reminded, only teasing, but he loved how that forced a few tears to fall from the psychiatrists eyes as he pushed down against his hand.  _

 

_ “Please!” he practically wailed, digging his nails into the nape of J’s neck, “Please, Daddy, let me cum- I’ll- fuck I’ll do anything!”  _

 

_ “Shut up and let it go.” J hissed at the boy, secretly revelling in the feeling of the boy’s blunt nails digging into his skin, being able to mix the feeling of pain with pleasure until he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his skin breaking. With one final thrust of his fingers, Harry finally took the man’s permission and arched his back up, releasing all over his stomach, with hushed cries and shaky thighs.  _

 

_ “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” he repeated over and over again, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of J removing his fingers from his fluttering hole.  _

 

_ “Mmm.” the man smirked, satisfied with his work as a compliant, knackered out Harry laid limp on the bed. “And I didn’t even have to get my cock out.” he chuckled, standing up and craning his neck, stretching his arms before he looked up at the clock. “Two minutes to spare,” he noted, leaning down to grab Harry’s clipboard off the floor where he’d tossed it, before tossing it so it landed on the boy’s chest. “Better get to work, Doctor Quinzel.”  _

 

“Harry?” 

 

“Huh?” He asked, still staring down at his plate of lasagna with a blank look on his face. 

 

“Hellooooo?” Anthony waved his hand in front of the boy’s face, “Are you even hearing what I’m saying?”

 

“What?” Harry blinked a few times before grabbing the man’s hand in front of him, almost as if in slow motion, trailing his arms up the arm that belonged to the hand, before he met eyes with Anthony. “Sorry.” he whispered, letting go of the man’s hand awkwardly and biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I was daydreaming.” 

 

Anthony chuckled softly and raised a brow, standing up from the barstool and grabbing his beer off the counter, finishing it off before tossing it into the recycling can. “I could tell. You kept whispering ‘daddy’ over and over again.” 

 

Harry smiled sheepishly, only slightly embarrassed, because everyone in the house knew he called the Joker daddy. Everyone in the house knew it, and how couldn’t they, when he’d sit on the man’s lap, practically grind on him, always whine to him, calling him the pet name that gave the man the most authority in the world. 

 

“Night, Quinn. Clean yourself up.” he nodded, picking up his gun and beginning to walk back to his station by the front door, where he was to guard the house for the rest of the night while Harry and a few of the other men slept. 

 

\-----

 

To say that Harry’s night was restless would be putting it vaguely, and quite frankly, Harry would love to say it was just ‘restless.’ But it wasn’t just. It was almost as close to what he would describe as pure and utter torment. No amount of electroshock therapy could compare to the tossing and turning of both Harry and his emotions. 

 

He was an absolute wreck. One minute, he was crying and trying to keep himself from having one of his very, very common mental breakdowns, trying to use the fact that it was less than twenty four hours from getting his Puddin’ back like a vice. Then, the next minute, he’d be having a new flashback, this time of him pleasuring his boyfriend, instead, only to make him sexually frustrated, and he never touched himself- that was J’s job, so he laid in bed with a hard on until his emotions changed again and it would go away. 

 

So, in a way, he was his usual self. Like bipolarity on steroids. 

 

But it was worse, because there was no J there to hold him. Not that he ever did, because the man wasn’t much of a cuddler, but sometimes after the man would fall asleep and Harry’s thoughts would get to him, he’d lift his boyfriends arm up and crawl under it, letting it drape over him. Joker kept him safe, even without knowing it. His problems silenced Harry’s in a way that Harry had never experienced with any other partner before, and he knew it never would again. 

 

Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, Harry saw that it was just turning seven a.m., which meant his boyfriend was getting taken to Blackgate in two hours. He threw the covers off of himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly and grabbing a pair of black skinnies, and one of J’s button downs to wear instead of his usual white v-neck. He just felt like he needed that part of the man with him until he got him back. 

 

“Quinn, you ready?” Frost poked his head in, seeing Harry button up his pants and tuck the dress shirt into them, turning his head towards the door. 

 

“Yeah, just let me put my shoes on.” he responded as he grabbed his boots from the floor, slipping them on easily before grabbing his phone. He took another glance at his lock screen, a picture he’d taken after J had fallen asleep, his mouth slightly ajar, his red lipstick smudged a bit onto his chin, his green hair slightly falling into his eyes. 

 

He was beautiful. No matter what state he in, he had Harry mesmerised. 

 

“Great. We’re wheels up in ten.” Frost smiled slightly and backed out of the room, leaving the door open for Harry to follow him, walking down the stairs and seeing about thirty or so guards waiting in the living room, already prepared with machine guns in hand and their signature crazy masks on. 

Harry furrowed his brows slightly at the man with the mask on that looked like a head-sized eyeball, but shrugged it off as he grabbed his revolver off the counter, smiling softly at the words J had etched into the side of them. 

 

Love. Hate. 

 

Harry gently held the gun to his chest, and closed his eyes only momentarily to think about J, before opening them and nodding. “Let’s head out!” he said, pointing his gun towards the door for emphasis and following the crowd of guards out of the front door. Frost trailed behind, walking beside Harry with his machine gun propped back against his shoulder. 

 

“You look worried.” the man commented, looking at Harry’s expression before back down at the ground, watching where they were walking as they walked to the black van. 

 

“S’cause I am.” the boy whispered, looking down at his feet for a moment, looking terribly discouraged. “I just don’t want to mess this up like we messed Arkham up. I want him back, and if we don’t get him back, I’ll just-” he shrugged, wanting to say something along the lines of he’d shoot himself, because honestly, he would. He was that devoted to the man, that the concept of life without J seemed taboo. 

 

“We’re getting him back.” Frost nudged the boy’s arm, opening the passenger side door for him. Harry looked up at Frost, seeing the man’s brown eyes holding a slight glint of hope. Dulled by the years of fighting to save the Joker’s ass, but hope was definitely in there somewhere, and that made Harry crack a smile. “It’s fool proof.”

 

\-----

 

“You’re sure that’s them?” Harry asked, leaning over the back of one of the chairs in the cockpit of the jet they were driving. 

 

“How many other jets you think have “property of Blackgate” written on them, huh?” the henchman piloting the plane, James or something, asked Harry. Harry scrunched his face up slightly. 

 

“My bad, asshole, just wanted to make sure we weren’t chasin’ after a cargo jet or something.” he muttered, looking over at Frost. “When do we start shootin’?” 

 

“As soon as we’re over grass and not the city.” Frost looked down from the large front window. “Which is in about three minutes.”

 

“Alright so we just lean out the window and shoot?” Harry asked curiously, making Frost chuckle and shake his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well I don’t know! I don’t just go around shootin’ planes down every day of my life!” He threw his hands up in the air defensively before frowning. “I just want my Puddin’.”

 

“These windows don’t open, so you’d have a hell of a time trying to get them to. No,” Frost led Harry over to the control panel of the jet, right next to the pilot, who swatted Harry’s hand away when he reached towards the intercom button. “There’s missiles built into the plane. We just aim it at them, start shooting, they should be down in about thirty seconds or less.” the man explained kindly, making Harry thankful for Frost, because while the other henchman- well, most of them- were nice to him, Frost was the only one who was truly making an effort to help the lad rather than make him feel dumb for not completely understanding the process of every mission yet. 

 

“Oh. So why did we bring guns?” the curly haired boy raised his gun up, waving it around slightly for emphasis. 

 

Frost grinned. “You always bring a gun with you, common sense. Plus, once we get down there, if one of those fuckers is still clinging onto their last moments of life, we can just kill ‘em.” 

 

Harry nodded in understanding, tucking his gun back into his holster and squealing with excitement as James reached for the missile’s handle, aiming it at the back of the jet, looking at it’s target in the little screen before he nodded. 

 

“Down they go.” the man spoke before pressing down the button, releasing several missiles into the back of the aircraft, and Harry gasped slightly as he watched the jet jerk in the air from the impact, the back of it going up into flames before it began plummeting towards the ground. 

 

Harry felt slightly sick, “Oh no, no, it’s going down too fast, Frost, is he going to be okay? God, if he’s not okay I will end you!” Harry felt a sudden wave of anger going through him, the (slightly) rational side of him remembering that  _ hey, that was fucking dangerous, we may have just killed my boyfriend, look at the irony in that. We were trying to save him and now he’s dead.  _

 

Of course, that rational side only applied when it came to the Joker. That was the only time Harry ever truly thought things through, because he never wanted to risk getting his boyfriend hurt. 

 

Looking out the front window, they saw the jet finally crash into a field below them, and Harry’s heart was racing. 

 

_ Oh god, please let him be okay. Please let my Puddin’ be okay. Please. Please. Please.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of random smut in there just because why not. This is actually the longest chapter I've ever done, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Don't forget to comment your thoughts :) Thank you for reading.


	12. XI

It seemed to all be happening in slow motion. For Harry, anyway. It was like delayed movement, everything blurred by the urgency of the situation and slightly because of the tears that filled Harry’s eyes. 

 

J’s plane was falling, spiralling through the air, the back of it caught up in flames from where they’d shot at it. To Harry it seemed to be falling as slow as something possibly could from that height, or maybe that was just how high up they were, and how far down they were plummeting. Maybe it felt slow because of how Harry’s heart was plummeting with it, and how his chest tightened when he looked out the front window of the plane and finally saw the plane collide with the grass beneath it.

 

With one last gasp for breath, Harry was back with real time. Everything was loud again, and fast, and rushed. Frost pulled Harry back and handed him his gun, gripping it in the boy’s shaky, pale hand. “When we get down there we get out and shoot down every guard still living on that plane, you hear me? We’ll get J when it’s all finished.”

 

Harry shook his head quickly. “No! He’s more important! We have to make sure he’s okay!”

 

“Not if they fucking escape-” he gripped onto Harry and held onto a security belt hanging from the ceiling as the jet began lowering down to meet the crashed one below them. “If any guard in that jet is still alive it is going to be their sole mission to get J out of there and  _ run  _ with him before we get him. He might be on sedatives, we don’t know, so he may not be able to escape from them if they’re rushing him out of there. We  _ have  _ to kill them first.” Frost’s voice was slightly rushed and Harry could sense how urgent he was, and how he was practically begging with his eyes for Harry to just cooperate. 

 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, feeling nauseous and overwhelmed, but it wasn’t the time for that. There were more important things to worry about. 

 

“Okay, fine.” He murmured, his voice shaky and unsure but he had to trust Frost if they were going to pull this off. He couldn’t do anything to waver the chances of getting his boyfriend back. He couldn’t blow this opportunity because of his stupid impulsiveness that J had learned to encourage so much. He couldn’t just be a psychopath about this. He had to be  _ strategic  _ about this and that was when Harry realised just how reckless he’d been for all these months. 

 

He never thought twice about his actions. Hell, he’d never even thought once. He just did, did whatever J told him, putting his trust and his whole entire being into the man, not caring about the consequences of his extremely risky actions. He never had to deal with the repercussions because there was never anything at stake. He had nothing to lose, except for his boyfriend.  _ Now  _ he had something to lose.  _ Now  _ was the time to be smart about his actions.

 

As the pilot landed the plane, they made sure to keep a watch for the plane that was just a few yards away, making sure to land a bit away so that if the plane were to explode, they wouldn’t all get blown to pieces with it.

 

“Alright, out! Out!” Frost yelled to J’s other henchmen who were standing at attention at the back of the jet, guns in hand and their masks on. One by one they all jumped out of the plane, their combat boots stomping onto the dry, cracked earth beneath them, rushing to the wreck in front of them to kill off any surviving authorities. 

 

Frost nudged Harry towards the door and nodded. “Go. Go get him.”

 

Harry’s vision blurred with tears again, stepping out of the aircraft and being hit with the heat that the fire was putting off. “Daddy.” he whispered to himself, feeling the dread of knowing that his boyfriend was stuck in there with the blazing heat, either completely clueless, knocked unconscious or even dead. 

 

“Harry!” Frost pushed the boy forwards, making him stumble slightly and bringing him from his haunting thoughts once again. “Get him before the whole fucking thing explodes!”

 

The lad ran towards the aircraft, feeling the sweat begin to rise on the surface of his milky skin at the proximity, the fire putting off the most unforgiving heat that he’d ever felt aside from falling into the boiling acid, and the smoke was enough to blind him from the burning sensation. His ears began to ring from the gunshots of J’s men who were already in there, killing off the prison guards and making sure nobody was hiding from them and calling for help. 

 

As Harry stepped into the plane he could see J, on the floor, a gash on his forehead with blood rolling down his face and his lower lip busted open. He seemed to be unconscious, but Harry couldn’t tell, so he slowly, shakily walked forward, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of him. 

 

_ Please be okay. Please be okay.  _

 

He shoved his gun into the waistband of his pants, not caring about checking to see if the guards were all dead, leaning down and touching his hand to the side of J’s face. He looked terrible, his face looking even more sunken in than normal, cuts on his wrists from the handcuffs digging in during the fall, two thick streams of blood dripping from his nose. Harry could only assume he’d fallen forward and bashed his face into the seat during the fall, and that was why he was knocked out. 

 

“Daddy?” he whispered, his voice incredibly weak, sounding like a child. J’s men stood behind him, finally finished with the shooting, and ready to cut J out of the restraints and take him back to the jet that still stood yards away, ready to take them home. “Daddy, it’s me… You okay?” Harry raised his voice slightly, nudging at the man’s shoulder. He watched J’s chest, looking to see if it was moving, but the tears blurred his vision so much that even if the man was panting, he wouldn’t be able to tell. “Mister J?”

 

He leaned down and placed his ear in front of the man’s lips, feeling for any side of exhaling, and when he heard nothing he feel back from his kneeling position, onto his bum, and his hands went into his hair. 

 

“Daddy,” he began sobbing, his face contorting into a look of sheer pain and desperation, and for once, J’s men all looked at the boy with pity rather than stoicism. “Wake up!” he yelled, pushing his leg forward to kick the man in the stomach, moving to lean up. “You’re okay! Get up, now!” he yelled, smacking the man across the face. 

 

“Quinn, come on,” one of the henchmen came forward to grab his arm, but Harry shoved him away. 

 

“Go away!” he choked out through his body-trembling sobs. “He’s okay! He just needs a minute to wake up!” his voice went quickly from yelling to just whispering, turning back to his unconscious boyfriend. “C’mon Daddy, quit playin’ around.” he whispered, leaning down to cup the man’s face in his trembling hands. His thumb carefully traced over the ‘J’ tattoo beneath the man’s left eye, Harry’s tears dripping onto his pale skin. 

 

“What the  _ hell  _ is taking you imbeciles so long?” the dilapidated plane shook slightly as Frost climbed into it, looking at J’s men who just nodded towards Harry. “Shit, fuck.” he muttered and walked to the shaking boy. “Move, move.” he moved Harry to the side, putting his fingers on J’s neck to check for a pulse. 

 

Harry looked at Frost, realising what he was doing, and his eyes were begging for a positive reaction. Even the slightest pulse, anything. He quickly wiped his eyes on his shirt and sniffled, trying to compose himself. 

 

“Well?” he asked after Frost held his fingers there for a few moments, his brows furrowing as he looked down at J’s face. 

 

“Wait.” the man used his other hand to hold up a finger. After a few more agonising seconds, he nodded and removed his hand. “We got a pulse. Slow and faint but it’s there.” he chuckled as he stood up, grabbing a key from one of the dead guards pockets, using it to unchain J’s wrists. 

 

Harry let out a breath he had no idea he was even holding, smiling slightly and looking at his boyfriend’s body as he helped Frost pick him up. He’d never seen the man in such a state of weakness, even when he was shot he always kept moving as swiftly as before. Seeing him need to be  _ carried  _ to safety made Harry absolutely understand the severity of his condition, and that they needed to get him back to J’s house where the private doctor was immediately. 

 

\-----

 

J was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV drip to help with the pain of the “concussion” or whatever the doctor said he had. 

 

Harry hadn’t left the man’s side since he’d gotten home and laid down to rest, which was about a few hours ago. He sat on the bedside, holding one of J’s large, cold hands and tracing his fingertips around the spade, club and diamond tattoos on his fingers. The heartbeat was steady, and Harry hummed to the rhythm of it, gently swaying his head from side to side as he held onto the man’s fingers. 

 

_ I almost lost him.  _

 

_ I almost lost my Puddin’, my Daddy, my reason to live, my life source, my God, my home, my sweet, beautiful Clown Prince. I almost lost him today.  _

 

_ But he’s a fighter. He’s been shot before, he’s been stabbed, fallen off of buildings, broken bones, been in car crashes and even almost been strangled to death. There’s no way a stupid concussion is going to do him in.  _

 

_ I almost lost him but he’ll be okay. Of course he’ll be okay. He’s alive now and it only gets better from here. _

 

Harry looked up at the man’s face, which had stitches in the gash on his forehead, and his lip was scabbed over now, his wrists had been bandaged to heal the gashes left by the cuffs, and luckily that was the extent of the injuries. The doctor had even told Harry that a normal person wouldn’t have survived a fall that well, but J wasn’t an ordinary person, and that he could see the man making a full recovery within days. 

 

“I’m sorry I almost killed ya, Daddy.” Harry whispered softly as he intertwined his fingers with the Joker’s, smiling softly as he did so. Joker never held his hand, but he was unconscious and he didn’t have to know Harry was secretly being all lovey dovey with him. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or, bother him, since it  _ was  _ just affection after all, and the man’s ignorance to it was unjustifiable. “I just had to get you back before you were locked up forever. What’s a few scratches if it gets you your freedom back, huh?” he smiled, leaning his head down and kissing the man’s knuckles. 

 

He looked up at the IV bag and sighed heavily. The doctor had put the man on it to soothe any pain in the event of a broken rib or fractured bone, but they’d taken x-rays and seen that nothing was wrong, so Harry leaned over and yanked the needle out of his arm. Why drug him for nothing? It was only postponing his awakening. 

 

Harry smiled slightly and ran his thumb over the man’s hand. 

 

It was still weird, the sight of J so vulnerable and weak, but he found it almost endearing. Almost proving a point to himself that as much as the clown hated to admit it, he needed Harry. Certainly not as much as Harry needed him. But he was safe and sound because the boy wanted his Daddy home, and so it was. 

 

“Hope you wake up soon.” Harry began speaking again, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the man’s prominent pale cheekbone, smiling slightly at the feeling of his skin against his lips. It’d been  _ too long  _ without that feeling, and Harry just wanted to drink it up. To be frank, he wanted J’s lips on  _ his  _ skin more than anything, but he knew that the man needed healing time. 

 

He could wait. 

 

Mister J was worth it. 

 

“I love you.” he whispered once more, sitting back in his seat, and the curly haired boy could’ve sworn he felt the man’s hand squeeze his just a bit tighter.

 

\-----

 

“Where am I?” Harry was startled when he heard his boyfriend stirring, leaning up in the bed and craning his neck, stretching his legs out. “How the hell did I get home?” J muttered to himself before looking at Harry. 

 

“Puddin’! You’re awake!” Harry squeaked and jumped up from his seat on J’s chair, moving over to pull the man into a hug. “Oh god, Daddy, I missed you so much. You scared the hell out of me, I thought I’d lost you forever.” he whispered, pressing kisses all over J’s cheek and down his neck in the most hurried fashion. 

 

“What the  _ hell  _ are you talking about- get off me.” the man growled and shoved Harry back, making the boy fall back onto the bed, pouting over dramatically. “You’re saying you’re the reason why I feel as though I’ve fallen out of twelve story building again?” he grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair, noticing the bandage on his wrists. “This is pathetic.”

 

Harry frowned. “I got you out of having to go to Blackgate.” He said defensively, but more or less in a way to say ‘you’re fucking welcome.’

 

“Yeah, thanks for that, now I get to look the part of a mental patient too.” The man spat as he held his wrists out towards Harry before pulling them away, pulling the covers off of himself and standing up. “I need a fucking drink.”

 

Harry scoffed and stood up too. “You would have been locked up with like… thirty life sentences! Thousands, even, who the fuck knows how that works-” he threw his hands up in the air. “You would’ve been locked away and never to be seen again, even though you’re a little banged up a little bit of appreciation would be  _ fantastic _ ! You know, a reward for being scared shitless and the mental exhaustion that came with worrying about you for a week?”

 

J chuckled as he walked towards the sliding glass doors, ignoring Harry who followed him with an expectant expression etched into his features. 

 

“Right, so now I owe you my life because you shot down my transportation unit and brought me home?” J asked as he grabbed a glass from his mini bar in the corner of the room, pouring himself a bit of whiskey, turning to Harry and raising the glass to his lips.

 

“I never said that.” Harry gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the taller man, clenching his fists by his sides. “I asked for a thank you. Two. Simple. Words.”

 

Joker grinned and swished the brown liquid around in the bottom of his glass for a moment before raising the glass to his lips, downing it all in one go and slamming the glass down onto his liquor cart. 

 

Strolling over to Harry and leaning down into his smaller frame, Harry could feel the man’s lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Frost’s broken me out of Arkham more times than you could imagine. I don’t owe him  _ shit,  _ and I don’t owe you  _ shit. _ ” the man hissed the last word into Harry’s ear before shoving him back and going to the bathroom. 

 

Harry was rendered speechless, standing in his place with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

 

_ Absolutely no respect, once again. Is there any way to make him happy? Do I just fail at everything? _

 

J slammed the bathroom door shut and Harry jumped slightly, before looking down at his hands that were clenched into fists. 

 

“Yeah well fuck you and your stupid pride anyway! I don’t need a fucking thank you!” he suddenly yelled, picking up the glass J had just drank and hurling it at the bathroom door. “You’re just an arrogant prick is all you are! What I need is a man whose ego isn’t so big that he has to treat others like shit in order to keep it that way!”

 

His chest heaved, taking a deep breath at the silence that drifted in the air before the bathroom door opened. He could see a look of pure, seething rage on J’s face as he looked down at the glass and back up at Harry’s. 

 

“You think you could get better than me?” the man grinned as he stepped on the glass, Harry wincing slightly at the crunching, and knowing the man was barefoot. He walked to Harry slowly, tilting his head to the side in exaggeration to his inquiry. “You really think you could get someone who would treat you better? Who would shower you with affection and gratitude, to stroke that delicate little ego of yours so you wouldn’t have to beg for attention at any given chance?”

 

Harry clenched his jaw as he looked up at the man wordlessly. Tears filled his eyes again at the way the man spoke of him, and usually he told himself that the man was only speaking to him like that out of anger from someone else or stress, but what the hell was the man stressed about now? He was home, safe and sound, returned back to his tyrannical self as usual. 

 

“Who in their  _ right mind  _ would want to be stuck with a needy little  _ bitch _ like you?” the man swung his arm, backhanding Harry as he spoke the word ‘bitch’, and Harry could feel the rings on the man’s hands, leaving their own little marks in his skin as he fell to the floor, being whipped around from the force of the smack. His hands hit the floor before he did, protecting him from falling forward any more, and he sat with his hands on the cold hardwood floor, staring at it while his cheek throbbed. 

 

“Fuck you.” he whispered, seeing the blood drip from the man’s feet as he turned around, looking up at him. J had his infamous smirk on his face, the one he made when he was twistedly proud of himself for mentally and/or physically abusing the weaker person before him. 

 

J cooed as he leaned down, looking at Harry who had to fight not to get lost in the pale blue eyes before him. “Oh, kitten, be honest. You still love me even when I speak the truth about you.” he stood back up, turning around and walking back towards the bathroom. “Clean this glass up. I’m taking a shower. And get breakfast started. I’m starving.” he slammed the door shut again, leaving Harry on the floor staring at the foot-shaped puddles of blood on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes I had a feeling the ending was a bit much but I figured I'd keep it in there just because I want everyone to remember that even though Harry feels so much admiration to the Joker, doesn't mean it's mutual, and also a reminder that yes the Joker is an abusive asshole. I was also going to end the story at them just saving him from the plane and that'd be the end of it, but I'm enjoying writing it too much so I guess I'm going to keep writing until I can think of another good place to end it. 
> 
> Like always, thank you so much for reading and please comment your thoughts! 
> 
> P.S. I promise next chapter will be cuter and less abusive. J can have his somewhat sweet moments too. :)


	13. XII

Frost watched in awe at Harry’s actions towards J once the clown had come downstairs for breakfast. Harry was usually so obedient with J, always taking the beating and even apologising for it, but there was something different about him this time.

  
Frost couldn’t tell whether it was because Harry had finally been alone for the first time since he’d ever met J, and he’d gotten a slight taste at what he could do on his own, without the man. He couldn’t tell if it was because he knew that life could go on without J, or if he’d learned to enjoy the absence of beatings and emotional abuse, which Frost definitely wouldn’t doubt. Or, possibly even, that Harry just wasn't thinking of the consequences of his actions, and he was just _tired_ of Joker's shit.

  
The guard sat down on his bar stool in the dining room, just across the room from J who sat at the grand dining room table, a large, mahogany table with intricate designs carved into it and polished to perfection, accompanied by many comfortable leather chairs since regular wooden chairs just ‘didn’t fit Joker’s style.’

  
He poured himself a small glass of whiskey, watching Harry walk out of the connected kitchen, carrying a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and hashbrowns on it. He watched in shock as Harry walked to the table wordlessly, practically tossing the glass plate onto the table in front of his boyfriend and listening to it clatter back and forth, a few eggs spilling off the edge of the plate.

  
“Enjoy.” Harry smiled simply before his straight face returned and he walked back to the kitchen to grab his own food. “Lazy prick.”

  
Frost could see that Joker was slightly taken aback by it as well, not used to such misbehaviour on Harry’s part, and Frost could only fear for Harry now that Joker was back and his attitude just wasn’t letting up.

  
“What the hell was that?” he could hear the potential rage in his voice, his strong jaw clenching as he watched Harry walk past him with his own plate, walking to his seat opposite of the man, sitting down calmly and unrolling his fork and knife from his napkin.

  
Harry put down his fork, putting his napkin on his lap and smiling sarcastically. “Nothin’, Daddy, I just find it awful funny that a man as old and self-assured as you can organise intricate heists, but can’t cook his own goddamn breakfast.” he leaned against the table at the last few words before leaning back into his seat. “But that’s okay. I cook better than you do anyway.”

  
Frost raised his brows and turned the opposite way, already seeing J have to hold himself back from lunging across the table at the younger boy.

  
“What makes you think you can speak to me like that, kitten?” the man spat the pet name like more of an insult than an endearing term, like he usually did, and Harry shrugged slightly, as if he was hardly even listening to the man, and quite frankly digging himself deeper and deeper into shit.

  
“Nothin’.” he replied simply, stuffing a mouthful of eggs into his mouth and chewing it before raising his orange juice to his lips and taking a sip, all while keeping eye contact with the seething Clown Prince of Crime in front of him. “I’m just talkin’.” He didn’t seem scared at all, and while it was plausible that he wasn’t, anyone looking at him could tell that this was taking all the courage he had to stand up to the man.

  
J’s chest seemed to heave, probably more with shock than rage. Harry usually never stood up to the man and now that he was actually doing it, J was probably scared that the boy knew he existed without J, and knew he could make it on his own. Joker probably knew he was losing him. Frost couldn’t tell if that scared Joker because he was losing power, or because he loved the boy, but he could tell by the look on the clowns face that something of his was being threatened.

  
The clown stood up and pushed the chair back, standing up and flipped the table over, causing it to hit the wall and break into it.

  
_Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._

  
Harry stood up and pushed the his chair towards the man to block him as he backed away towards the living room behind him. His breathing was heavy and his heart rate began to pick up, seeing the look in Joker’s eyes that meant his instincts were telling him to kill. To grab the boy and choke the life out of him- and while Harry was instigating him, he certainly didn’t want the fight to end with his own funeral.

  
“It appears to me that you think you’re in charge here just because I was gone for a week. Is that what this is? You think you’re tough shit, because your puny little brain was able to think of shooting my plane down?” He grabbed the chair Harry was using as a defense weapon and yanked it out of his hands, throwing it to the wall. “Oh! Right! You weren’t even the one who thought of it!”

  
Before the curly haired boy could even react, he was being shoved back forcefully to the ground, by the Joker’s foot against his ribs. He could hear himself let out a small squeak and his body hit the floor, luckily missing the glass table by just a few inches.

  
“What does it matter. I got you out, okay? Forget I said anything! I’m sorry for bein’ mean, really!” He crawled backwards so his back was pressed up against the couch while J just stalked closer, looking like he was ready to draw blood. “Daddy, please, I get it okay? I’m being a bitch, I’ll stop! I just don’t want to get beat-” he rolled to the side as J lunged forward, going to punch the boy but as Harry moved, the man punched the wall. “Hey! I’m trying to make nice here and you’re trying to knock my teeth out!”

  
Harry looked at J in disbelief, who simply brushed the dry wall off the couch and wiped the blood off his knuckles, looking at Harry with seething rage.

  
“You know I don’t accept apologies, princess. Apologies don’t teach lessons.” He stood up and reached for Harry, who ducked under his hands and rolled between his legs so that he was behind him.

  
“I know what the lesson is! I’ve learned it a million times! Don’t piss you off! I get it!” Harry’s voice was becoming squeakier and more panicked with every movement, seeing that his boyfriend wasn’t backing off, and probably wouldn’t until he’d beaten Harry senseless. God knows how much pent up rage the man had from a week of being doped up on drugs and unable to kill someone.

  
Joker turned around and narrowed his eyes at Harry, chuckling a bit before throwing his hands up into the air. “Clearly not, kitten! You’re pissing me off right now!” He stepped towards Harry, his arms stretched out almost like he was going to give him a hug. “If you had learned your lesson,” he grabbed Harry’s chin roughly with one hand, his other hand on the back of the boy’s neck, “you wouldn’t be trying to avoid me right now. You know that only makes me angrier.”

  
The younger boy scrunched his nose up and reached a hand up to try and pry J’s tight, bone crushing grip off of his chin. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Daddy. What’s the punishment? Just- ow- stop squeezing! I’ll take my punishment just-” he whimpered and used all of his strength to pull his head away out of J’s hands.

  
Joker looked feral. Like a rabid dog that had been chained up and was finally released, and Harry was a slab of meat being dangled over his head. Harry could tell getting his bit of attitude out definitely wasn’t worth what was to come.

  
“Daddy, please stop looking at me like that.” His green eyes were wider now, seeing J just staring at him. Unmoving, not even blinking, his cold stare just locked on the boy’s face while his chest heaved and his hands twitched. It looked like the man was trying to hold himself back from snapping the boy’s neck, as much as he’d like to, and was now twitching with restraint. “Hey, I’ll take my punishment okay? Okay? I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’ll learn my lesson for real this time.” Harry reached up and cupped the man’s pale face, seeing the man’s shaking become more and more violent.

  
The man still wasn’t responding, making Harry’s heart speed up. It was amazing how quickly the situation would change, Harry would go from pitying himself and worrying for his life, to completely forgiving the man for abusing him and trying to comfort the obviously unfixable man.

  
“C’mon Daddy you’re scarin’ me.” He whispered, turning J’s head and trying to get the man to move his eyes, “Talk to me. Hit me- do something. Okay? I deserve it! I’m a little bitch! Just do something please.” His green eyes began filling with tears, trying to figure out why the man wasn’t acting like his usual self.

  
The man now had tremor like movements, his breathing becoming ragged, and his eyes staring straight forwards into nothing.

  
“I haven’t killed anyone…” he clenched his jaw so hard Harry thought the metal on his teeth would bend, “in two. _Weeks_.” The man’s voice was so clearly agitated, he almost sounded demonic, and Harry nodded in understanding, petting his pale hands over his boyfriend’s cheeks.

  
“I know, I know, Puddin’. I’m sorry. We can go out and wreak some havoc if it makes ya feel better. Or, I could stay home in my room and you could go do it, y’know, since I don’t really deserve to go have fun.” He murmured slightly, looking up and seeing the man still wasn’t looking at him, but rather past him. “Oh come on, please! I’m doing everything I can to make you feel better.”

  
“You have to get out.” J said almost all in one breath, his arms now jerking as he tried to restrain himself. “Get out now. Before I kill you. I want to, and I’m going to, if you don’t get out of my sight in the next thirty seconds.”

  
Harry whimpered, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can’t kick me out! You won’t kill me! You can hurt me, I’m okay with that! Daddy, don’t make me leave!” He grabbed onto the man’s hands, now shaking and his heart pounding in his ears. “Please, I’ll be so good. You don’t have to push me away.” He whispered.

  
“Get out.” The man repeated louder this time, jerking his hands away. “This has nothing to do with love, Harry. Get. Out. I don’t just want to hurt you. I want to end you. Don’t be a dumb piece of shit and get yourself killed because you don’t want to be without me.”

  
A tear rolled down the boy’s face at that. “You love me?” He asked, the word sounding so foreign from the man’s blood red lips that it almost wiped Harry’s mind clean from anything else that was happening.

  
“That’s exactly the point, no I don’t.” Joker turned around and hunched over violently, letting out a groan that sounded like he was in pain. “ **Get out! Now**!” He screamed, making Harry turn and run towards the door, trying to resist the urge to run back and comfort the man. It was like there was a demon fighting to get out of the man’s body and he was on the cusp of self destructing, and there was nothing Harry could do about it. He was useless.

  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he closed the door and ran out of the front yard, already hearing glass shattering once he reached the mailbox.

  
\-----

  
Harry wiped under his nose with the sleeve of his sweater, kicking at an empty beer can on the ground. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He whispered to himself, trying to hold back any more tears. “You’re just a stupid little bitch. He was right. He was always right, everything he says about you is right.” He kicked the can farther away and covered his face with his hands. “I’m the reason he’s alone right now. I could be there holding him and instead he’s probably getting himself hurt, all because I had to voice my stupid opinion!”

  
“Harry?”

  
The curly haired boy whipped around at that, not even taking into account the voice that said it, but the fact that his name was called, and it must be his boyfriend.

  
“Huh? Yeah?” He asked, looking around before seeing a familiar blonde haired blue eyed boy looking at him with a shocked expression. “Oh, god.” He whispered, watching Niall’s head peek out of the doorway to the library. It was closed, obviously, but Niall was probably just checking inventory to make sure all the books were in by their due dates. “Niall!”

  
“Harry.” The boy said as more of a statement, his head still the only thing exposed. “Are you- are you alright? You look… different. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

  
Harry looked down at himself and nodded, sniffling and wiping under his eyes. “I’m fine, yeah. Tough day.” He lied, being so used to just dealing with his problems on his own, since it always bothered Joker when he would open up, and he didn’t want to stress the man out any more than he already was.

  
“More like tough three months.” Niall said, looking around before he opened the door, nodding towards the inside of the store. “You’ve been a missing person for the past three months. Your parents think you’re dead.”

  
Harry quickly walked towards the door, smiling slightly as if to thank you before he walked in and shivered at the change in temperature, the gloomy Gotham weather outside a big contrast from the toasty seventy two degrees inside.

  
“Well… here I am.” He said half heartedly, shrugging and putting his hands into his sweater pockets.

  
Niall closed the door and turned to look at him with a dumbfounded look on his face. “What happened to you?” He asked, his voice sounded drenched with worry, and the look on the lad’s face made Harry’s heart ache just a bit. “We’ve all been worried sick… Your parents had a funeral with no body. They thought you got killed when the Joker busted out of Arkham, and maybe he took your body or some.. something. I don’t even know. Some people think you’re still alive though. It’s like… some conspiracy.”

  
Harry’s lips pressed together, watching Niall explain exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair in a stressed manner.

  
“And then just a few weeks ago you hear about the Joker breaking into Gotham City bank and getting his ass beat by Batman.” The blonde boy walked to the desk he was working at, grabbing a newspaper and holding it up to the boy, which showed an extremely blurry photo of Harry’s face from when he was grabbing money from the vaults. “Accompanied by an unfamiliar, younger henchman doing all the dirty work. Some people refuse to believe it, some people think you’re his new boyfriend or something… Some people think you’re being held captive and are still fine, some people just think you’re dead and it’s someone who looked a little like you.”

  
Harry watched as Niall sat down, utterly speechless. He completely even forgot he had a life outside of J, that he didn’t even think what was going on while he was off causing mayhem with the clown. He didn’t even think of how his actions could be affecting the people he’d previously held close to his heart.

  
“So what do you believe?” He asked curiously, watching Niall fold the newspaper back up and put it away. “You think I’m crazy or just being held captive?”

  
Niall looked up at him. “Well you’re roaming free now, aren’t you?” He asked, making the boy nod. “We all know the Joker would never let you out of his sight unless he knew you were going to come back and wouldn’t turn him in.” He said, making Harry frown slightly. “You must be out of your mind. There’s no way you’d do this if you weren’t.”

  
Harry looked at him for a moment before back down at his feet, shuffling them back and forth much like he did when he was being yelled at by J. It was his submissive stance, with his head bowed and his eyes shamefully trained on the ground, as though it was where he belonged, and he didn’t have the authority to look up into the person’s eyes.

  
“I know you’re a good person Harry.” Niall said, making the boy breathe in slowly. After a few moments of Harry not saying anything back, the Irish lad sighed heavily. “So- tell me why you’re here. Why aren’t you with him? This is the first time you’ve been spotted alone since breaking him out of Arkham.”

  
Harry looked up at Niall and blinked a few times, remembering the argument that they’d had and feeling that all-too-familiar pain in his chest.

  
“He kicked me out.” He murmured, bowing his head again shamefully. “He was going to kill me, cause I made him so angry, he was trying so hard to hold himself back. You should’ve seen him, Niall, he was convulsing like he was fighting every urge and instinct in his body. Then he said he doesn’t, and never has, loved me… But why would he try so hard not to kill me if he doesn’t love me?” He rambled slightly, becoming increasingly more upset with each passing second. “It makes no sense!”

  
Niall seemed to jump slightly at Harry’s sudden outburst at the end, not sure what damage the boy could possibly cause. “Harry… look at me please.”

  
The curly haired boy looked up at his friend, seeing the boy place his hands on the desk in front of him worriedly.

  
“He’s crazy, okay? You know that. You can’t deny that the man isn’t completely and utterly insane. No, he sullies the good name of insane. He’s a whole other level of… maddening. There are no words to describe-”

  
“I get it, Niall, I’m in love with someone whose brain hardly functions.” Harry replied monotonously.

  
“Sorry. But- anyway… he’s crazy. His brain doesn’t work like ours do. Well, yours used to… I don’t know. God, I’m sorry, don’t shoot me.” He laughed nervously, clapping his hands together. Once he saw that Harry made no move to attack, he continued. “I just… he’s not capable of feeling things like love, okay? He’s a monster. He can’t even be classified as a human being anymore. So, if he’s not a human, then he doesn’t have human feelings. He doesn’t feel remorse, fear, love, anything. The only emotions he’s capable of are anger and happiness. Anger, which leads him to do bad things, and that brings him happiness. It’s a never ending circle of destruction and pain. It’s not your fault he doesn’t love you. It’s just not how he works.”

  
Harry scrunched his face up, tears running out of his eyes again at his words. “He’s not a monster.” He sniffled, taking a deep breath to try and keep himself from losing it again. “He just needs someone to show they care, okay? You see a violent dog in the shelter, you’re not going to hit it and expect it to stop growling! It’s obviously going to bite you! Well everyone always hits J. They tell him he’s a monster and try and lock him up in a room where he’s forced to be alone with his thoughts. How is that going to help him? What he needs is love! He deserves love Niall!”

  
Niall sighed slightly and listened to Harry rant in his trembling voice.

  
“Harry…”

  
“You just don’t know him like I do! He’s just scared and lonely even if he hates to admit it. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, how calm and peaceful he gets when I show him that I care!” The boy continued, wiping his eyes. “He’s my sweet, misunderstood shelter puppy. And I’m his home! And he’s mine!”

  
Niall shook his head and closed his eyes, listening to Harry’s words in disbelief. The boy was so wrapped up in love with the man that he thought that not killing someone meant he was calm. Everyone knew that wasn’t calm, for J, that was just planning his next kill. Everything the boy was saying made no sense except to him. To Harry, he knew what J needed, but any normal person would know that the boy didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, and he was just making excuses for his devil of a boyfriend.

  
\-----

  
Soon after his little outburst, Niall had advised Harry to leave the library as he was a person of interest, and he didn’t want to get dragged into the middle of the situation. Harry only left because he was thankful Niall had let him talk to him and didn’t call the police, and though he told him he was crazy, he didn’t talk down to him like everyone else would.

  
While he wasn’t happy to be wandering around Gotham with his face hidden by a hoodie pulled over his head and nowhere to go, Harry was trying to focus on the fact that he needed to find shelter for the night. It had been hours of wandering the streets and avoiding the glances of police officers on street corners who probably didn’t even realise it was him.

  
Harry could see his breath in front of him, the street lights all beginning to flicker on and doors and windows were beginning to be locked.

  
“Quinn!” A familiar voice yelled from the street, causing Harry to turn around and look at the person in the vehicle, his body trembling slightly from the cold and his nose bright red. “Hey, c’mere, get in. You must be freezing.”

  
Harry sniffled slightly, his nose beginning to run from the cold, glancing around before jogging to the black Sedan and getting in, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them against the vents which were shooting out warm air that immediately comforted him. “Hi Frost.” He mumbled, not bothering to look at the man, but rather at his lap in embarrassment. Either Joker had sent the man out to get Harry and he was going home to face the punishment he so narrowly escaped, or the man was going behind J’s back to give the boy a pity favour.

  
He didn’t know which one was worse.

  
“I’ve been looking for you for an hour now. Thought you might’ve left Gotham completely.” The man put the car in drive, beginning to drive off down the road, glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye. “What have you been doing? Gotten yourself into any more trouble?” He asked with concern laced into his voice.

  
Harry knew Frost cared for him, since, well, he sort of needed to. He was always the person in charge of protecting Harry and Joker. He was almost as powerful as the psychotic clowns, in the sense that he knew the ins and outs of Joker’s psychotic schemes. He knew where he hid his most prized possessions, where he went to be alone or to escape the world. He knew things they didn’t even know about themselves, sometimes. And all the other henchmen respected him for that, because he wasn’t just a henchman. He was almost like a friend to Joker, something nobody ever thought another human being could possibly achieve.

  
“No.” Harry shook his head, rocking forward and backward in the seat, waiting for himself to stop shivering. “I’ve… I saw an old friend, then got kicked out, so I’ve just been looking for an abandoned house or something to break into and go to sleep in. I’m tired.”

  
Frost nodded in understanding, turning onto a back road so that they’d be less likely to get noticed by anyone. “Well, you can stay at mine tonight. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt but I don’t want me getting killed for helping you out without being ordered to.”

  
Harry nodded weakly, frowning to himself. “Okay.” He responded quietly, closing his eyes in just pure and utter sadness. He wasn’t sad for himself, he was more sad for the fact that his boyfriend was alone and surely doing something dangerous that could get him hurt. And he wasn’t there to comfort him. “So… is… is he okay?” He asked, turning his head to look at Frost.

  
Frost opened his mouth, glancing at Harry and then back at the road before closing his mouth and shaking his head.

  
Harry stiffened. “What? What? Is he hurt? Was it the Bat? He acted out and got beat up by the Bat didn’t he?” His shoulders slumped in grief for the man. “That stupid bitch in a costume is always beatin’ up on him when he’s upset! He can’t ever just have a bad day, it has to be a horrible day!”

  
“Harry,” Frost held up a hand and shook his head. “The Bat had nothing to do with it. Believe me, he doesn’t even know where J is.”

  
“Oh…” the boy furrowed his brows. “Okay. Then what happened? Is someone there making sure he doesn’t get hurt?”

  
“He burned the house down, Quinn.” Frost said bluntly, stopping the car in the middle of the deserted road and looking at him with intent. “He went _absolutely_ fucking _berserk_. Even for him.”

  
Harry’s lower lip quivered and his eyes welled with tears. “He must be so upset…”

  
“It’s not even about that!” Frost sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “The fact is after he made you leave he went absolutely out of control. He broke all the windows with a baseball bat, pulled the TV off the wall and threw it to the ground like it was light as a feather. He cut open furniture with a switchblade, throwing dishes and then, he ran around the house with a huge tub of gasoline, pouring it all over everything. _Everything_. And then he just took a few drags of his cigarette and threw it on the ground and just watched the whole house go up in flames around him. It was… it actually scared me.” Frost looked at Harry sullenly.

  
“My poor baby…” Harry weakly leaned back into the seat, his hands coming up to rest on his own cheeks, staring out the window in a mixture of grief and horror. “Where is he now?”

  
“His other house. Hopefully not ruining that one too.” The man responded, sighing stressfully and leaning his head back against his seat. “Don’t worry. I managed to make him run out of the house before he got himself burned alive. Worst case scenario is his clothes are a little burnt or he’s got a few blisters from the heat.”

  
Harry didn’t respond, just blinking sadly and staring out the window.

  
_I wasn’t there when he needed me the most. I could have calmed him down. I could have let him know he was loved and important and beautiful. I could have protected him, and I left._

  
_It’s all my fault._

  
“Where’s his new house?” He asked, turning his head to look at Frost. “What’s the address?”

  
“You can’t go there, Harry, he’ll freak out again.”

  
“ **Did I ask you that? What’s his address?** ” Harry bellowed, making Frost sigh heavily and grab a paper out of his pocket, handing it to him. The paper had the address scrawled messily onto it, but Harry could make it out. “Go home.” He opened the door and got out, shutting it before beginning to run down the street.

  
\-----

  
Since the man was so early into the process of getting situated in his new home, he didn’t have any guards set up yet, making it very easy for Harry to sneak in through the front door, tip toeing through the house to try and find his boyfriend. The house was huge, possibly even bigger than their old one.

  
“Daddy?” He whispered, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen. “You’re not alone, Daddy…” he whispered, walking through the kitchen and towards the dining room. “It’s your pumpkin… I’m here to make you feel better.”

  
The dining room was empty. The living room was empty. The back porch was empty, the bedrooms, the basement, the bathrooms. Harry sighed quietly, looking down the stairs at the den, grabbing onto the railing to begin walking down when he heard a click.

  
“I told you to leave.” The voice made him freeze for a moment before turning around. The man looked a wreck, his usually combed back hair now sweaty and falling into his face, a thick black smile drawn around the man’s lips like he’d drawn on himself with sharpie. His clothes were burnt, his face sweaty and covered in ashes and smoke. His hand was tightly gripping the pistol in his hand, aiming it right at Harry’s forehead. “How did you find me?”

  
“Daddy… come on,” Harry said in a soft voice, looking up at his boyfriend with big, doe green eyes. “I’m just here to help. Put the gun down, Puddin’.”

  
The man’s eyes narrowed and he kept the gun aimed. “I said _how did you find me?_ ” He gritted his teeth, adjusting his grip on the gun. “Was it Frost? Did that son of a bitch give you my address?”

  
Harry ignored the man’s questions, stepping back up the stairs and watching as J backed up, still holding the gun towards him. “Daddy. It’s okay.” He whispered, looking at him. “It’s just me. Your kitten? Your pumpkin? Sweet cheeks…” he smiled slightly at the nickname the man occasionally called him. “I’d never hurt you… you know that.”

  
Joker looked like he was trying to convince himself to put down the gun, but his hand just wouldn’t move. “I don’t want you here.” He said, his finger moving to the trigger, “I don’t love you, Harry, get away from me before I blow those pretty little brains over my new walls.”

  
“You don’t mean that.” Harry said, stepping forward again. “You can love me, Daddy… it’s okay. It doesn’t make you less powerful.” He said, his voice dripping with empathy. “I know you love me. You don’t have to say it.”

  
“I don’t.”

  
Harry looked at him for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Then why am I not dead yet?” He asked, hearing nothing but ragged breathing and the safety of the gun clicking back and forth, like the man was contemplating on pulling the trigger then or later. “My angel.” He whispered.

  
Silence.

  
“My beautiful clown… My sweet, handsome prince.” He whispered, opening his eyes and seeing J staring at him, swallowing heavily. “Daddy. Why are you so scared of my heart?” He whispered, stepping forward and gently reaching forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and aiming it away from him. “I’m just trying to love you and support you.”

  
Joker’s hand remained clutching the gun, looking at Harry now as he got closer. “Loving someone makes them your weakness.” He responded, not taking his eyes off of Harry’s. “I don’t love you. I don’t. I never have, never will. I will not get myself killed because of a good fuck and a pretty smile.”

  
Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly at the man’s words, his twistedly devoted mind somehow taking that as a compliment.

  
“I can be your strength, Daddy. Me and you make a great team. If you’d just let me in….” he reached forward and cupped the man’s face. “We could do anything you want. Twice as fast, twice as good. I don’t have to be your weakness if you don’t let me be.”

  
The man just swallowed again and looked up at the ceiling, parting his lips and letting out a deep breath.

  
“I love you, Mister J.” Harry grabbed the man’s tie, pulling him a bit closer and pressing a kiss to the man’s chin as it was angled towards him. “So, so, so much. I’d do anything for you, my beautiful clown prince. And I know you would for me, too-”

  
_Bang!_

  
Harry jumped slightly and looked up at J with widened eyes. The man’s pale skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his eyes closed and his Adam's apple bobbing slightly from breathing in that position.

  
_What the hell was that for?_

  
“For the last time, Harry. I don’t love you. I value my life over yours.” The man leaned his head down, looking at the bullet hole in the wall behind Harry before back at him. “You’re only alive because I’ve allowed you to be. Not because I need you to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest, Joker is lying. If he didn't love Harry he would've killed him by now. Let's just see how long it takes him to suck it up and admit it. Promise the next chapter will be cuter and more interesting, I was just in an angsty ass mood when I wrote this. Thank you for reading! Like always, please comment your thoughts :)


End file.
